


Spotlights

by GreyMichaela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (well it IS me), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bodyguard, Cuddling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel is a Little Shit, M/M, Popstar Gabriel, Stalking, Terror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 44,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is a popstar at the height of his career.  Unfortunately, someone seems determined to bring him down, and the threats are escalating.</p><p>Gabriel's manager hires Sam Winchester as his new bodyguard.  Gabriel dislikes him on sight.  Sam must keep Gabriel safe even as Gabriel is determined to thwart him at every turn and they fight their growing attraction to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have a long first chapter. Beignets is in the middle of cover art, so I'm in a tiny lull at the moment, but the usual disclaimer applies - I'm not sure how often I'll update, but I'll try to make it a couple of times a week.

There was nowhere Gabriel loved being as much as onstage.  Up there, all his problems went away, vanished into the ether, and he was _alive_ , feeding on the energy of his fans and letting the music pour through him.

The issues began when he stepped off the stage.  Everyone wanted a piece of him, and Gabriel didn’t _mind_ that—it was the price of doing what he loved, after all. But it was also exhausting, forcing his way through the hands that reached for him as he went by, covered in sweat and drained from his performance.

Still, he tried to give them what they wanted, taking selfies and signing as many autographs as he could before his crew whisked him away, but there wasn’t enough time, never enough.

So he wasn’t inclined to be gracious or kind when his manager informed him that she’d hired a new bodyguard for him.

“Someone else to keep me from ever having fun ever, is that it?” he snapped, glaring at her.

Anna rolled her eyes.  “Honestly, Gabriel, are you capable of being mature, or did you just skip that part of adulthood?”

Gabriel snickered and took a sip of his mojito.  “You know the answer to that, sis,” he said.  “So who’s the new lunkhead, and what was wrong with the old one?”

“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon,” Anna said, sighing.  “Couldn’t wait to get started on the drinking, could you?”

“Save it,” Gabriel suggested.  “And why did you fire Garth?  He’s a sweetheart.”

Anna propped her hands on her slim hips and glared at him.  “Garth _is_ a sweetheart. That’s the problem. And I didn’t fire him—he’s your driver now.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said, perking up a little.  “That’s good.  So who’s the new guy? Please tell me he has a sense of humor, at the very least.”

“Debatable,” Anna said, lifting a delicate shoulder.  “I haven’t seen any sign of one, but that’s not why I hired him. He’s got top references, he’s the best at what he does, and I went to college with his brother.”

“If he’s got top references, why does he need a job?” Gabriel demanded.

Anna’s glare intensified.  “Gabriel, I swear to God, if you chase this one away too, I will kill you myself. We won’t _have_ to wait for your stalker to do it.”

“Big talk,” Gabriel muttered, slumping in his chair.  “Fine, bring him in.  I make no promises, though.”

Anna disappeared, her heels clicking decisively on the marble, and came back a few minutes later, a tall man in tow.

Gabriel perked up a little.  This had possibilities. The man was busy scanning Gabriel’s huge living room, his green eyes sharp, so Gabriel indulged himself and ogled a bit.

He was well over six feet and was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, nothing fancy, but he clearly worked out, if those muscles were any indication. Shaggy brown hair fell forward over a high brow, and his eyes never stopped moving, assessing the room and its occupants.

Gabriel flipped an indolent wave at him, lounging back against the cushions. “You’re the latest sacrifice to the gods, huh?  Good to meet you.”

“Gabriel, this is Sam Winchester.  Be _nice_ ,” Anna hissed.

Sam’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Novak,” he said.  His voice was deep but gentle, and Gabriel found himself relaxing a bit in spite of himself as they shook hands.

“Anna tells me you don’t have a sense of humor but that we should hire you anyway,” he said. “Pull up a chair and tell me why I should let you work for me.”

Sam shot a confused look at Anna and sat down in the chair opposite Gabriel. “I… was under the impression that I already had the job,” he said carefully.

“You do,” Anna snapped.  “Gabriel thinks he’s funny.”

“Anna, go do something useful,” Gabriel said, not taking his eyes off Sam. “Like, I don’t know… washing the car or something.  Sam and I need to talk in private.”

Anna sighed and left the room, her back stiff, but Gabriel just smiled at Sam, who smiled back, looking uncomfortable.

“Tell me about yourself, Sammy,” Gabriel said, taking another sip of his mojito.

“It’s Sam, actually,” Sam said.  “I’m not very interesting, I’m afraid.”

Gabriel gave him another brilliant smile.  He knew that smile—he practiced it in the mirror every morning. It made girls scream and boys beg for more.  It dropped underwear everywhere.

Sam appeared unmoved. 

“Are you a fan of my music, Mr. Winchester?” Gabriel asked, hiding his pout.

Sam shook his head.  “I’ve heard your name, of course—who hasn’t?  But I’m more of a classic rock fan.  Anyway, we’re really not here to talk about me.  Why don’t you tell me about your recent problems?”

Gabriel shrugged, squirming into a more comfortable position.  “I’m sure Anna’s already given you the broad strokes,” he said.

Sam nodded, eyes fixed on Gabriel’s.  It made Gabriel feel exposed, suddenly, in a way that had nothing to do with what he was wearing.

“She has,” Sam was saying.  “But I’d like to hear _your_ version of things.”

Gabriel huffed a breath.  “I don’t… like thinking about it.”

Sam smiled suddenly.  “I guess that’s life, isn’t it?”

Gabriel glared at him and Sam just lifted an eyebrow.

“So?” he prompted.

“So what?” Gabriel snapped.

“So you have a fan stalking you,” Sam said, unruffled by Gabriel’s rudeness.

“Stalking is kind of an aggressive term,” Gabriel protested.  “They’re… enthusiastic.”

“A letter at least once a week since you started keeping track several months ago,” Sam said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, “getting more and more disturbing over the past month.  Whoever they are, they’re becoming progressively more upset by your lack of response, and beginning to threaten actual bodily harm if they don’t hear from you.”

Gabriel looked at his hands and said nothing.

“This person is unbalanced,” Sam said gently.  “And while I agree that it may be nothing, it may also be _something_.  And that’s where I come in.”

Gabriel looked up at him.

“You do what I say, when I say it,” Sam said, steel suddenly in his voice.

Gabriel gulped and tried for cheeky.  “Is that a promise?”

“This is not a joke, Mr. Novak,” Sam said flatly.  “You do what I say when I say it because if you don’t, you could end up dead. Do you understand me?”

Gabriel swallowed hard and shrank into himself a little.

“You let me a clear a room before you enter it—same with cars,” Sam continued. “You do not accept invitations without clearing them with me.  You don’t go _anywhere_ without me. You don’t read any mail until I’ve scanned it and made sure it’s safe.  You sure as hell don’t respond to anything without my approval. My number is priority in your phone and if I’m not already beside you, I am the first person you call in any situation, period.  Are we clear so far?”

Gabriel scowled but nodded.

“Your safety is literally my job, Mr. Novak,” Sam said, his voice gentling a little again. “I will do whatever I have to in order to ensure that you remain safe.  That means that you probably won’t like me very much, but that’s okay. You don’t have to like me—you just have to stay alive and unharmed.”

“Lucky you said that,” Gabriel muttered.  “Because I think I already hate you a little bit.”

Sam’s smile lit up the room as he leaned back in his chair.  “So what do we know about this super-fan of yours?”

Gabriel fidgeted with his drink.  He’d lost interest in it, but he needed something for his hands to do. “I turned the letters over to the cops,” he said.  “We don’t even know if it’s a guy or a girl.  The detective assigned to the case says he thinks it’s a guy, based on the way he talks and certain phrases he uses—also his handwriting is masculine, whatever the fuck that means. But we don’t have a name or anything.”

“And if I ask you to cancel your current concert schedule, go somewhere private until this is taken care of, what would your answer be?”

Gabriel jerked his head up.  “No fucking _way_ ,” he snarled. “My fans look forward to the concerts all damn year, you really think I’m going to _cancel_ them?”

Sam looked thoughtful.  “So it’s not because you make money on your venues, but because you feel you owe it to your fans?”

“I wouldn’t _be_ here if it weren’t for my fans!” Gabriel said.  “I owe them _everything_ , okay? I’m not… I won’t leave them hanging.”

Sam nodded. “Alright, Mr. Novak. But that means you’re going to have to make a few sacrifices as regards safety.  Are you currently seeing anyone?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you read the tabloids,” Gabriel sneered, but Sam just looked at him, unruffled, and waited for an answer.  Finally Gabriel sighed and turned his mojito in his hand. “No,” he said quietly. “He got scared by the… fan, and took off.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, and he sounded sincere.

Gabriel shrugged and took a swallow of his drink.  “He was just a way to pass the time,” he said.  “A quick fuck and nice to look at, but there was nothing _there_.  I had to explain to him what a cranberry was, once.”

Sam’s lips twitched but he didn’t comment.  Instead he stood up and began to walk around the room.  “Take me through a typical day when you’re not working, please,” he said from somewhere behind Gabriel’s shoulder.

Gabriel refused to look.  “My days off are spent in the studio.  I write my own songs, so I stay pretty busy.  I work out in the mornings, generally about seven—”

Sam appeared, gazing out the huge sliding glass door.  “I’ll work out with you,” he said.

Gabriel snorted an unwilling laugh and Sam turned to look at him.

“Problem?” he inquired.

“Nope,” Gabriel said, and drained his glass.  “Then I have breakfast and go to the studio.  I tend to work pretty late—Anna has to drag me out a lot. So I don’t know… bring a book or something.”

“May I see your bedroom, please?” Sam asked.

Gabriel hesitated but Sam just waited, and finally Gabriel sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

“Come on, then,” he said with bad grace, and stomped in the direction of his bedroom. He could _feel_ Sam’s eyes looking everywhere, but he refused to glance over his shoulder at him.  Instead he shoved open the door to his bedroom and gestured.  “Inner sanctum, as requested.”

Sam stepped inside the door and glanced around, and Gabriel followed him into the spacious room, resisting the urge to rub his arms.

The carpet was plush and thick under Sam’s heavy boots, a warm toast color that contrasted well with the deep red comforter on Gabriel’s huge four-poster bed and the dark brown curtains that blocked the light from his door to the patio.

“This is… nice,” Sam said.

Gabriel bridled.  “Just because I’m a pop star doesn’t mean I have bad taste,” he snapped.  “I’m not Liberace, asshole.”

Sam shot him a distracted smile as he moved over to the patio door and pushed the curtain aside to look out.  “I guess I just expected more… sequins,” he said.  “Where does this door lead?”

“Back garden and my studio,” Gabriel said.  “No one’s allowed back there.”

“And there?” Sam asked, pointing at the adjoining door.

“Bathroom and beside it is the home office that I don’t use.  It’s smaller than my closet, I don’t really need it.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll sleep there,” he said. “I’d prefer to be between you and anyone entering, but something tells me I’m going to have my hands full convincing you to sleep in a room smaller than your closet.”

“Got that right, bucko,” Gabriel muttered, standing aside to let Sam precede him back out of the bedroom.

“I need to do a sweep of the grounds,” Sam said.  “Which means I need you somewhere safe while I do that.”

Gabriel’s patience, what little there was, evaporated.  “I’m not a _toddler_!” he shouted, stopping in the middle of the hall and making Sam turn to face him. “I’m perfectly capable of being alone for a few hours while you go do super-spy shit, okay?  So go… do it, would you?  I’ll be in the studio.”

He spun and stomped back into the bedroom, where he dressed in soft jeans and a comfortable turtleneck before shoving his patio door open and stalking out into the garden.  He left the door open behind with a savage twist of glee.  Let Sam play catch-up, scrambling to keep Gabriel safe.  He’d soon realize he was outmatched and give up in disgust.

He burst into his studio and slammed the soundproof door shut behind him. Grabbing his headphones, he flopped into his chair and turned the computer on, forcing himself to pay attention to the track he’d been working on and very determinedly not thinking about Sam’s green eyes or the dimple that flashed when he smiled or those incredible hands—Gabriel rubbed his face and turned the music up.

When he resurfaced, someone was banging on the studio door. Gabriel glanced at his phone and blinked.  He’d been working for nearly three hours.  He stood up and stretched, groaning happily as his spine popped, before sauntering to the door.

He looked out expecting to see Sam, and did a double take at the sight of his sister glaring at him.

“What—where’s Sam?” he asked, glancing past her.

“Getting his things,” Anna said.  “Could you have _been_ ruder to him?”

“Probably,” Gabriel said.  “Would you like me to try?”

Anna rolled her eyes.  “It’s dinnertime. Come on.”  She turned and stalked away, graceful and assured in her high heels, and Gabriel sighed and followed her, locking the door on his way out.

 

Sam joined them halfway through the meal, out of breath and apologetic for his lateness.

“Perfectly alright,” Anna said graciously as Gabriel took an extra big bite of lobster and refused to look at Sam, who was settling himself across the table, directly in Gabriel’s line of sight.

“Are you fully moved in?” Anna asked.  “Or do you need some help getting the rest of your things?”

Sam smiled at her as he draped a napkin across his lap and the maid brought him a plate and utensils.  “I don’t have much, but thank you,” he said.  “It’s all taken care of.”

Gabriel chewed and swallowed determinedly, trying not to look at Sam’s long fingers as he played with his fork.

Anna was still asking questions, unaware of Gabriel’s internal dilemma.

“So, Sam, do you have family in the area?”

Sam swallowed his bite hastily and nodded.  “Yes ma’am,” he said.  “My brother lives about six hours east of here.  He and his husband run a campground in Joshua Tree National Park.  I don’t see him as much as I’d like, but I try to get over there every few months.”

Gabriel shuddered delicately.  “Mosquitos,” he said.

Anna ignored him.  “And you were a Marine, is that right?”

Sam stiffened slightly, a flash of movement there and gone so quickly that Gabriel thought he’d imagined it, and nodded again.

“How long did you serve?” Gabriel asked.

Sam glanced at him.  “I—four years.”

“Were you overseas?” Gabriel said, his dinner forgotten.

“Yes,” Sam said, and Gabriel definitely wasn’t imagining his clipped tone that time. “Two tours in Afghanistan.”

“Did you lose anyone?” Gabriel asked.

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Anna snapped.

Sam’s mouth twisted but he said nothing, picking up his fork and applying himself to his food again.

Guilt squirmed in Gabriel’s gut and he pushed away from the table. “I’m full,” he announced.

“I’m sorry for my brother,” Anna was saying as Gabriel left the room.

Sam’s reply was too quiet for Gabriel to hear.

 

Gabriel flopped on the couch and stared at the ceiling in the living room. _God_ , he was bored.  Music could only occupy so much of his time.  He wanted to go out, to dance, have fun with his friends, _live_ again.

And why shouldn’t he? 

Gabriel snuck a glance toward the dining room.  He could hear Anna and Sam still talking in low tones, and he grinned to himself and pulled his phone from his pocket.

One quick mass-text later, Gabriel hopped to his feet and stuck his head back in the dining room.

“I’m going back to the studio to work for a couple more hours,” he announced. “Don’t come bugging me, got it?”

“You’re such a _diva_ ,” Anna said. “We won’t disrupt your ‘art’, Gabriel.”

Sam wiped his mouth and stood up.  “I’ll come with you,” he said.

“Oh no,” Gabriel said hastily.  “You most certainly will _not_.  The last thing I need is you crashing my creative flow, buddy.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and Gabriel backpedaled, trying for innocent.

“Dude, you’ve seen the garden and the studio.  No one’s getting back there.  Just… relax and leave me alone for the evening, okay?  I’ll come say goodnight before I go to bed, if that makes you happy.”

Anna laid a hand on Sam’s arm.  “He’s right, Sam—no one can get to him in the studio.  Why don’t you stay out here and tell me more about yourself?”

Gabriel disappeared before Sam’s answer.  He double-timed it down the hall and changed into tight black leather pants and his favorite shirt, the gold one that made his eyes almost glow. Then it was quick work to slip out into the garden and around the back of his studio to the door set into the wall, the one hidden by the ivy that no one else—except the gardener—knew about.

Several blocks from his house, Gabriel pulled out his phone and called a limo. He pulled up in front of the club and flashbulbs went off in his face as he stepped out of the car. Gabriel blinked and smiled, waving to the photographers and stopping to sign autographs on his way inside. He was going to catch shit from Sam _and_ Anna when this showed up in the tabloids tomorrow, but it would be worth it to see the looks on their faces.

Past the heavy wooden door, a deep bass beat was thrumming so loudly Gabriel could feel it vibrating out the soles of his feet.  It was dark, the cavernous space lit solely by running strips set into the floor and the brightly glowing wristbands worn by the occupants.

Charlie pounced before Gabriel was all the way inside the room.  “Fucking _finally_ ,” she said, her green eyes gleaming under the glow-sticks she’d woven into a crown and set on top of her bright red hair.  “What took you so long?”

“Had to slip the leash,” Gabriel said, kissing her cheek.  “How’s the room?”

“It’s good,” Charlie said.  “I think I saw Kanye over in the corner, and there are rumors that Selena might put in an appearance.  So I hear you have new eye-candy.   _Dish_.”

“Yes he is,” Gabriel said, straight-faced.  “And he has no sense of humor whatsoever and I loathe him completely.”

“Well, of course you do,” Charlie said, pressing a martini into his hand. “He’s telling you what to do—you _hate_ that!”

“I don’t want to talk about him right now,” Gabriel said, and gulped the drink down in several quick swallows.  “Right now I just want to get drunk and I want to dance.”

“The rest of the posse is already out there and they’ve got a head start,” Charlie said. “We’re all at least three drinks in.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Gabriel demanded.

Charlie whooped and dragged him onto the dance floor as the DJ started a new song and Gabriel began to bounce on his toes as he tilted his head back, letting the bass vibrate through his bones.

_Oh, yes._

 

Some four hours later, Gabriel and Charlie staggered out of the club and crawled into the waiting limo.  Charlie collapsed back against the vinyl seat and stared up through the open moon-roof with a happy sigh.

“That was… a good night,” she declared.  “Very… good night.”  A slight snore escaped her lips and Gabriel laughed.  His head was pleasantly fuzzy, but despite his size and the amount of alcohol he’d put away, he wasn’t very drunk.

The limo pulled up and stopped where he directed, several blocks from Gabriel’s house, and he handed a hundred dollar bill to the driver, with instructions to get Charlie safely into her own home.

He was humming as he let himself into the garden, and he did a little soft-shoe shuffle up the path to the back door with a smile on his face.

The smile slid rapidly _off_ his face when he realized that there was an envelope taped to the glass, exactly at eye-level.

Gabriel reached for it and slid the door open as he fumbled with the paper and finally managed to pull the corner up.

He could feel the blood draining from his face as a Polaroid fell out and into his hand. His own laughing eyes looked up at him, back to back with a redhead wearing a crown of glow-sticks as they danced.

Gabriel turned the picture over, feeling numb.  There were words scrawled on the back.

 _I love the way you move_.

“Oh God,” Gabriel whispered. 

Sam’s door opened and he stepped into Gabriel’s bedroom, taking in what he was wearing with narrowed eyes and a tight mouth.

“You went out,” he said flatly.  “You went out, _without_ me.”

Gabriel couldn’t look away from the photograph.  He was rooted in place.

Sam crossed the room and bent to look into his eyes.  “Gabriel?” he said.

Gabriel held the photograph up as he began to tremble.  “He was there,” he managed, looking up.  “He was there, Sam, he was _at the club_ , he must have been _right in front of me_ and I didn’t even _see_ him—”

Sam caught him by the arms and shook him once, hard.  “ _Breathe_ ,” he said sharply. He held Gabriel’s eyes until Gabriel managed to drag in a full breath and the shakes began to ease. Only then did Sam take the Polaroid, pinching the edge between thumb and forefinger to examine it.

He guided Gabriel to the bed with his free hand and pushed him down onto it. Once he was sure Gabriel wasn’t going to topple over, he dug his phone out and punched in a number.

“Get here, _now_ ,” he snapped, and hung up.

Gabriel’s vision was fuzzing around the edges and he clenched his teeth. He would _not_ faint, no matter how enticing his bed looked or how much he felt like he was floating—Sam dragged him back upright and shook him a little.

“Gabe, _whoa_ ,” he said. “Don’t pass out on me, man.”

“Don’t… call me Gabe,” Gabriel grumbled, batting weakly at Sam’s big hand.

Sam smiled a little.  “I’d say you got your just desserts for giving me the slip and going out on your own, but no one deserves this shit.  How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Gabriel said, giving his pillow a longing look.  The terror was still there, gibbering in the back of his mind, but it had somehow receded with Sam’s hands on his shoulders and with those warm green eyes locked on his.  He felt… safe.

“You can sleep after you talk to the police,” Sam said gently.

“Wanna sleep _now_ ,” Gabriel said through a yawn.

Sam huffed a quiet laugh.  “Oh my God, you should not be this adorable when you’re drunk off your ass.  No, nope, come on, back upright.”  He hauled Gabriel vertical again and Gabriel moaned.

“I don’t like you,” he informed Sam, who snorted.

“I am a thief of joy,” Sam agreed.  “But if I let you sleep, you’ll forget everything and we have to get the details of your night out of you before that happens.  Come on, let’s go wash your face.”  He helped Gabriel to his feet and they made a wavering line for the bathroom.

Cold water on his face helped shock Gabriel into a semblance of coherence and he sputtered, groping for the hand towel.

“Oh God, I _really_ don’t like you,” he said.

Sam just grinned at him as a knock sounded on the door.  “Cops are here,” he said.  “Come on, let’s go talk to them.”

 

Two hours later, Gabriel stumbled towards his bed and collapsed on it with a grateful moan. “Jesus, the lot of you are sadistic bastards,” he mumbled into the pillow.  “Is that on the aptitude test?  Do people that score higher in the ‘enjoys inflicting pain and suffering on others’ category have a better chance of becoming cops?”

Sam snorted, pulling the blanket up over Gabriel’s shoulders. “You are quite possibly the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.”

Gabriel rolled enough to meet his eyes and pointed a finger at him. “ _You’ve_ clearly never met Bieber.”

Sam laughed outright at that.  “No, you’re right, I haven’t.  Now shut up and go to sleep, would you?”

Gabriel snuggled back into his pillows with a happy noise as Sam made rustling noises around the bed.  He disappeared into his own bedroom for a minute and Gabriel sighed, already beginning to drift toward sleep, when Sam came back out and stubbed his toe on the corner of Gabriel’s bed with a bitten-off curse.

Gabriel jerked upright and turned on a lamp.  “What… what are you _doing_?”

Sam’s arms were full of bedding and he just lifted an eyebrow.  “Whoever this person was, they came all the way up through your back garden to tape a note to your patio door.  Not only do they obviously have a way in—and by the way, all the locks are getting changed tomorrow and security’s being added to—but as long as you insist on sleeping in a room where I can’t protect you, well… I’m sleeping in here too.”  He turned and laid his blanket out on the carpet, dropped his pillow on top of it, and lay down as Gabriel gaped at him.

“I’m not sleeping in the same _room_ with you!” Gabriel finally sputtered.

“It’s this or you move to my room and I’ll sleep out here,” Sam said. He was flat on his back—he should absolutely not look so forbidding.

Gabriel glared at him and finally flounced over onto his side and yanked the blanket back up.  “You probably _snore_ ,” he flung over his shoulder.

“Go to sleep, Gabriel,” Sam said, his voice amused.

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something else, something witty and devastating—and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up the next morning as the sun slanted over his bed.  Kicking off the covers, Gabriel stretched and yawned. Other than the lingering traces of a headache, he felt good, light and washed clean.

The toilet flushed and Gabriel froze, startled.  He’d forgotten about his babysitter, dammit.  Sam opened the bathroom door, drying his hands, and smiled at Gabriel, who glowered at him.

“Morning,” Sam said.  “How are you feeling?”

Gabriel sat up.  “Tired of your face already. How do you stand looking in the mirror?”

Impossibly, Sam’s smile just widened.  “I got used to it years ago,” he said.  “Do you have a hangover or are you going to work out this morning?”

“I don’t get hangovers,” Gabriel said loftily, swinging his legs out of bed. “But I have to pee and change clothes.”

“Take your time,” Sam said, stepping aside so Gabriel could take his place in the bathroom. “I’m ready when you are.”

Gabriel led the way to his workout room in the basement and flicked on the lights, waving a hand at the gleaming equipment.  “Do… whatever you want,” he said vaguely.

“Do you have a personal trainer?” Sam said.

“Of course I have a personal trainer,” Gabriel snapped.  “But he’s on vacation at the moment.  Believe me, I wouldn’t be here at all except he’ll know if I’ve been slacking.  His punishments are… creative.”  He shuddered, remembering some of the horrors he’d been subjected to.  _Wind sprints_.

Sam’s eyebrows went up.  “Well, I’ll stay out of your way unless you need a spotter, then.”

“Whatever,” Gabriel said as he turned on the treadmill.

 

An hour later, he half-fell off the elliptical machine and dragged himself to his water bottle, whimpering a little.  Sam was lifting weights in the corner, and he looked up, concern on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I want to die,” Gabriel whimpered, and took a gulp of water.  “I want to die and be buried and never have to so much as _hear_ of exercise ever again.” He dumped the dregs of the water bottle over his hair and shook his head like a dog, sending droplets flying.

Sam’s eyebrows were climbing his forehead.  “Is it really that bad?” he asked between reps.

His breathing was barely even unsteady, Gabriel noted bitterly.

“I want to be chubby,” Gabriel snapped, settling onto the weight bench. “I _hate_ working out, I hate building muscle, I hate being on a diet—I want to eat whatever I want and not _care_ what I look like.  But no… my stupid team insists I have to look good for my fans.  It’s a bunch of bullshit.  Also, endorphins?  They’re a dirty fucking lie and they don’t actually exist.  Now get over here and spot me.”

Sam grinned at him and stood up, pushing his arms up over his head and bending from side to side.  Gabriel averted his eyes and lay back on the bench as Sam settled into position at his head and Gabriel gripped the cool metal bar.

“I hate my life,” he said, and began to lift.

 

When they were finally done, Gabriel staggered back up the stairs and took a shower. The cool water felt wonderful beating down on his shoulders and he sighed, shifting his weight as the spray pelted his skin.

Clean and dry, he tugged his favorite Metallica T-shirt on over his head and came out to find Sam waiting for him, sitting on Gabriel’s bed.

“Make yourself at home,” Gabriel said snidely, and Sam sprang to his feet.

“Sorry,” he said.  Was he blushing? “You don’t have any chairs in here, and I was kinda tired after that workout, and I—”

“Sam,” Gabriel said, cutting him off.  “I’m kind of an asshole, by now you should know this about me.  I wasn’t actually serious.  Let’s go eat, I’m hungry.”

 

Anna joined them for breakfast.  “So, Gabriel, I hear you had some trouble last night,” she said over egg white omelets.

Gabriel glared at Sam, who shrugged. 

“She’s my boss, you really think I wasn’t going to call her?” he said.

“Technically, _I’m_ your boss,” Gabriel pointed out. 

Sam grinned at him.  “She signs my paychecks. She’s my boss.”

Anna leaned forward, eyes dangerous.  “You’re not off the hook, Sam.  Why did you wait until this morning to let me know?”

Sam sobered and glanced between her and Gabriel.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “But the police were here, and Gabriel was really exhausted.  He needed to sleep, not be subjected to yet another round of interrogations.”

Anna stared at Sam and Gabriel developed an abrupt fascination with his omelet. Sam had been watching out for him, had made a decision that he’d _known_ would get him in trouble with Anna, in order to make sure that Gabriel was taken care of.

Gabriel had no idea how to process that information.  So he did what he always did in situations where he was uncomfortable—he deflected.

Tossing his fork on his plate, he stood up.  Sam immediately stood too, looking a little confused, and Anna glanced up, surprised.

“I’m going out,” Gabriel announced.

“I’ll get my purse,” Anna said.

“Oh no,” Gabriel said, pointing at her.  “I may not be able to shake the bulldog you attached to me, but nothing says I have to drag _you_ around with me as well.”

Anna sat back in her chair, frowning.  “But Gabriel—”

“We’ll be fine,” Gabriel said.  “Catch you later, sis.”  He jerked his head at Sam, who followed him out the front door and down the shallow steps of the patio to the guard shack that sat off to the side of the driveway.

Gabriel knocked on the door and waited until Garth opened the door and grinned at him.

“Gabe-o, how’s it going?” he asked.

“You see me almost every day,” Gabriel said, but his words lacked sting. “ _And_ I’ve asked you not to call me that ridiculous nickname.”

Garth bobbed his head and fired off a snappy salute.  “Yes _sir_ , Mr. Novak _sir_!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “Smartass. Garth, this is Sam. He’s your replacement. We need the car. Bring it around, please?”

Garth immediately moved to comply and Sam turned in a circle, looking at the grounds. Gabriel determinedly didn’t look at how nicely Sam filled out his black T-shirt, or how long his legs were in their faded denim.

“So where are we going?” Sam asked.

Gabriel had to stop and reorder his thoughts.  “Oh… shopping,” he said vaguely.  “Charlie has a birthday coming up soon.  I’m throwing her a party, have to pick up some stuff for it.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed as the car pulled up and he opened the back door for Gabriel to slide in first.  He waited until they were in and buckled before speaking.

“How many people are coming to this party?” he asked.

“Half of greater Los Angeles, I would assume,” Gabriel said airily, enjoying the way Sam’s lips tightened.  They rolled down the driveway and out the gate, and per Gabriel’s standing orders, Garth stopped at the end of the drive so that Gabriel could step out and address the small cluster of fans that was almost always there.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sam sputtered as Gabriel left the car, but it was too late.  He scrambled after him as Gabriel began passing out hugs and taking pictures and signing his name on various things that the fans shoved at him.

Sam stood right next to him, his body tense, and when an older woman tried to hug Gabriel, he stepped between them.

Gabriel pushed until Sam glowered and moved a little aside.  “She’s about as menacing as a pomegranate, Sam,” Gabriel snapped, and held out his arms to the dumpy woman, who looked on the verge of tears.

She lit up and hugged him almost desperately, and Gabriel patted her back, trying to ignore the way Sam was shifting his weight.  Finally he eased the fan away, squeezing her hand and smiling at her.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Gabriel winked at her.  “Love you too, babe.” He lifted his head to address everyone. “Things to do, guys,” he called, and a collective noise of disappointment rose from the groupies’ throats. Gabriel waved and slid back into the car and they rolled away as Sam glared at him.

“That is _exactly_ the kind of shit you need to stop pulling,” Sam growled.

“Lighten up, Sammy,” Gabriel said.  “There’s always _someone_ outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of me.  It’d be really fucking rude of me to just blow by them.”

“And yet most stars do exactly that,” Sam said.

Gabriel shrugged, turning to look out the window.  “I’m not most stars,” he mumbled.  There was silence from Sam’s side of the car.

Midmorning Los Angeles traffic was predictably heavy, and Gabriel slumped in his seat, sighing loudly, as they crawled along the highway.

“So tell me more about this party,” Sam finally said.

Gabriel perked up.  “It’s a small gathering,” he said.  “Only about three hundred people.”  He waited out the various fizzing noises Sam made at that, fighting his grin, before continuing. “It’s set for two weeks from tomorrow, at my place, of course.”

“I want to see the guest list,” Sam said.  “And I want every single person attending, from partiers to the caterers to the band, right down to the damn cleaning crew, vouched for and verified. There is not to be a single individual at this party that hasn’t been vetted nineteen ways from Sunday, you hear me?”

Gabriel pretended to shiver.  “Oh, Sammich, talk dirty to me some more.”

There was a startled silence and Gabriel grinned outright.

“How long will it last?” Sam finally asked.

Gabriel shrugged.  “Can’t time a good shindig.  Could end at midnight or, more likely, considering my friends, drag on until six AM. All depends.”

“Oh God,” Sam muttered.  “I need to stock up on Advil.”

Gabriel just snickered as Garth left the freeway and wound his way through the streets of downtown Los Angeles.

Finally Gabriel tapped Garth on the shoulder.  “Leave us here and find somewhere to park,” he said.  “I’ll text you when we’re ready to go—it’ll be easier than you trying to ferry us around.”

“You sure, boss?” Garth asked.

“I’ve got Sam, I’m sure,” Gabriel said firmly, slipping on his sunglasses, and ducked out of the car without waiting for an answer.

He dove into the first store—a tiny boutique that was appointment only—in front of him as Sam scrambled to catch up, muttering under his breath just loud enough for Gabriel to hear, and began to browse the shelves.

When the clerk came to greet them with a discreet clearing of her throat and a tight smile, Gabriel just slid his sunglasses down his nose so she could see his face.

“ _Oh_ ,” she said. “Just let me know if there’s anything at all you need, Mr. Novak.” She beat a hasty retreat and Sam watched her go with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t like it here,” Gabriel muttered.  “They’re way too snooty, but Charlie loves their clothes and they have her measurements on file.  Plus they know not to bother me while I look at stuff.”  He held up a vibrantly green dress and examined it critically, then turned and held it up against Sam’s chest.

Sam gave him a deadpan look and Gabriel laughed.  “C’mon, Sammo, it’s totally your color.”  He didn’t miss the twitching of Sam’s lips as he slung the dress over his arm and began looking at accessories.

He left his armloads with the now very polite clerk and told her to have everything gift-wrapped and delivered to his address.

Then it was on to the next store in line, a very upscale jewelry shop. Sam waited, watching the door, as Gabriel talked to the jeweler about designs for a necklace.

“Isn’t two weeks a little short notice for him to make an entire necklace?” Sam asked as they left the shop and Gabriel put his sunglasses back on.

“It’s not for Charlie,” Gabriel said.  “It’s for Anna, for Christmas.  I figure six months is plenty of time.”

Sam wasn’t really listening, watching someone across the cobblestone street. Their back was turned, presenting a slim shoulder in a brown jacket, and Gabriel shrugged and kept going. Sam caught up after a beat and they walked down the street side by side.  The sun was warm on Gabriel’s face and he sighed happily.

“This is nice,” he said.  “Just you, me, and a couple hundred thousand tourists.”

Sam’s face was tight but humor eased it briefly.  “You’re not going to—I don’t know, strip down and cause a mass riot or something, are you?”

Gabriel pressed a hand to his chest, miming pain.  “You wound me, Sam, you really—ooh, ice cream!”  He darted into the shop as Sam groaned and followed him.

Gabriel went with his favorite—green tea ice cream with gummy bears in a waffle cone—and then raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shook his head.

“On duty.”

Gabriel sputtered a laugh.  “That’s just for drinking, Sam. I’m pretty sure an ice cream cone won’t impair your sensibilities to the point that you can’t defend me from the ravening hordes that, by the way, are nowhere in sight.”

Sam glared at him briefly and then switched his attention to the attendant. “Chocolate, please,” he told her.

Gabriel pretended to yawn.  “Dull,” he remarked, flopping down in the nearest chair and stretching his legs out.

“ _Dark_ chocolate,” Sam told the young woman.

“Better,” Gabriel observed, gazing out the window.

“With caramel and toasted pecans, please,” Sam said.

Gabriel groaned happily.  “Marry me, Sam Winchester.”

Sam joined him at the table with his towering ice cream cone and arched an eyebrow. “Pretty sure you’re married to your ego,” he said.

“Nah, I’m just having an affair with her,” Gabriel said.  “She’s a fickle bitch, anyway.”  He caught Sam’s wrist with his free hand and tugged Sam’s ice cream toward him so he could take a huge bite.  “Oh yes,” he sighed around his mouthful.  “God, that’s sinful.”

Sam was utterly still as Gabriel licked his lips, but he looked away when Gabriel met his eyes.

They ate in peace for several minutes as Gabriel deliberated on how best to throw Sam off his guard next.  A flash of brown past the window caught his eye and Gabriel straightened, peering after the slender person passing with their head down, hands shoved in the pockets of their jacket.

“Problem?” Sam inquired.

“Nope,” Gabriel said, taking an enormous bite of his own ice cream.

“What else do you have in mind for today?” Sam asked.

“Gotta hit a couple more shops,” Gabriel said.  “Talk to the bakery that’s doing the cake.”

“That’s it?” Sam said, his tone incredulous.  “No skinny-dipping in the nearest fountain, no hanging your boxers from the flagpole and singing God Bless America?”

Gabriel gave him a dignified glare as he finished his ice cream and stood up. “First of all, fuck you.”

Sam chortled and followed him out of the shop.

“Second,” Gabriel said, heading down the sidewalk, “I only do that shit when there are plenty of reporters around to document.”

“Not worth doing unless there are witnesses, is that it?” Sam asked.

“You’re catching on!” Gabriel said. 

“Why don’t you have an assistant?” Sam said as they walked.

Gabriel shuddered.  “Someone _else_ snooping into my private business, prying and asking questions and knowing everything about me?  No thank you.  I have one for business matters, but I prefer to do personal stuff myself.”

He stiffened as he caught another glimpse of a brown jacket ahead of them.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Sam asked.  “You’re acting weird.”

“Remember that person you were looking at outside the first boutique?” Gabriel said as he stopped walking.

Sam stopped too and nodded.  “They were watching you but they turned away when you looked up.”

“I think that’s the third time I’ve seen them,” Gabriel said, gesturing with his chin in front of them to the slim figure with back still turned, apparently absorbed in window-shopping.

Sam’s eyes tightened.  “Tell Garth where we are.  We’re leaving now.”

Gabriel obeyed, punching out the text with fingers that only trembled a little. _This is stupid_ , he told himself.  _It’s just one person, and you’re with Sam.  The odds of it being your stalker are slim to none.  You’re overreacting._ But his breath was coming shorter and his vision was beginning to tunnel.

Sam took hold of his shoulders and peered into his face.  “Gabriel.  Gabe, breathe for me, okay?”

Gabriel dragged in a deep breath.  “Don’t… _call_ me that.”

Sam just grinned.  “It’s snapped you out of impending panic attacks twice now.  I’m gonna keep using it, I think.”

Gabriel glared at him and then glanced past him to their follower, who was still looking at the goods in the window, seemingly unaware of them.  “Can we… go?” he asked, hating the quaver in his voice. “It’ll take Garth a minute to get here and I don’t—”

Sam glanced around and made a quick decision.  “Come on,” he said, and caught Gabriel’s hand, pulling him down the sidewalk.

Gabriel followed willingly, his hand engulfed in Sam’s much larger one, and they ducked into the first open door Sam found.

They stood still in the dark interior and Gabriel took a deep breath. It smelled _wonderful_ , like flowers and scented oils and spices, and he could feel the tension draining from his frame.  Sam was still holding his hand, he noted distantly, but he didn’t pull away.

The doorbell jingled behind him and Gabriel tensed again as Sam spun and put himself between Gabriel and whoever was entering.

Gabriel clutched at the back of Sam’s shirt and peeked around his arm. A young woman was standing in the doorway, clutching a piece of paper to her chest and blinking rapidly.

“I—Gabriel Novak?” she asked in a high, clear voice.

“Nope,” Sam said flatly.  “Move along.”

The girl blinked some more and took a step forward instead.  “I saw him,” she insisted.  “He’s right behind you.  Please, I just want an autograph.”

Gabriel straightened, feeling like an idiot.  “It’s just a fan, Sam,” he said quietly.  “I overreacted, it’s fine.”  He smiled at the girl, who blinked even harder and blushed a fiery shade of red.  “What would you like it to say?” he asked.

“To Liz,” she said.  “I have all your albums. I’ve been a fan ever since you first came on the scene.”

“You must have been in diapers then,” Gabriel teased as he took the piece of paper from her and signed his name with the usual loops and flourishes.

“I’m older than I look,” Liz told him seriously.

Gabriel handed the paper back as Garth pulled up outside.  “Well, thanks for listening, love.  I have to go now, okay?”

Sam stayed close enough to touch until they were in the car and Garth was accelerating away from the curb.  “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.

“ _Stupid_ ,” Gabriel snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “She was just a harmless fan, Sam, I let your overprotective mother hen tendencies freak me out and I probably scared her worse than she scared me. This is ridiculous. I can’t be afraid of my own shadow, dammit!”

“You have every reason to be jumpy right now,” Sam said, his voice still low. “I would really prefer you just stay home until this guy is caught, but since I can’t seem to stop you, then you’re going to have to put up with me being overprotective, okay? I’m sorry, but it’s literally my job.”

Gabriel sighed and rested his head against the seatback.  “I hate this,” he mumbled.

“I’m not crazy about the situation either,” Sam agreed, “but we’ll just soldier on as best we can.”

Gabriel just closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted.  He thought he felt something brush the back of his hand, but when he opened his eyes, Sam was on the other side of the car, gazing out the window.  Gabriel closed his eyes again and fell into a doze.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello angst, my old friend.

Gabriel holed up in his studio for the afternoon, ignoring Anna’s repeated requests to come out and eat.  He locked himself away in his inner sanctum and immersed himself in the music, letting the melodies flow over and around him as he hid from the world and let everything else fade away.

He was in the middle of teasing out a particularly tricky chord when there was a knock on the door and the melody in Gabriel’s head dissipated.

He snarled as he stood up and wrenched the door open to glare up at Sam, who looked penitent.

“What?” Gabriel demanded.  “What could _possibly_ be so important that you have to disrupt my work and _ruin everything_?”

Sam blinked. “I think that might be overstating it a—”

“If I don’t write music, I don’t have songs to sing.  No hit records.  No sold out stadiums. No more _career_ , Sam, so please, tell me what you want, and make it _good_.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Sam said.

Gabriel clutched at his hair and spun on his heel to storm back inside. “I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t have lunch,” Sam said, following him in.

“Don’t care,” Gabriel tossed over his shoulder.  “Go away.”

“No,” Sam said flatly.

Gabriel set his guitar down and turned.  Sam met his eyes and arched a brow.

“You need to eat,” he said.

“You’re not my babysitter,” Gabriel said, his voice low and dangerous. “If I don’t want to eat, I’m not going to eat, and I would invite you to _try_ and make me.”

Sam closed his eyes for a second, as if praying for patience.  “Anna’s not here—she said she had something else she needed to do. She asked me to be sure you got some food in you at some point.  So….” He sat down in the chair opposite Gabriel.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demanded.

“Waiting,” Sam said.  “You have to stop eventually, at which point we will go and get food.  Until then, I’m not leaving.”

“I hate you,” Gabriel said.

Sam just smiled and leaned back in the chair, lacing his fingers across his flat stomach and stretching his legs out.  “Don’t let me interrupt the creative process,” he said lazily.

Gabriel gritted his teeth and sat down on his stool again.  He swung his guitar into his lap and plucked at the strings, barely hearing the discordant noise they made.  Sam didn’t seem to notice.  He’d rested his head against the chair cushions and was staring at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought.

Several minutes passed as Gabriel struggled to recapture the elusive strands of the melody that were floating just outside his reach, but it was no use. Sam was too much, too vibrant and _there_ , and Gabriel couldn’t focus.

“Fuck it,” he said abruptly, setting his guitar down again.  “Let’s go eat.”

Sam bounced to his feet, but he didn’t crow over his victory.  He just gestured for Gabriel to precede him out of the room.

They shared a surprisingly comfortable dinner on the patio overlooking the main gardens. Gabriel pointed to the big open space halfway down the lawn.

“That’s where the pavilion’s gonna go,” he said around his mouthful of steak. “Band’ll be playing there. There’ll be food up here on the patio. Fairy lights strung all around the garden, of course.”

“Sounds nice,” Sam said. 

“I’ll get Meredith to give you the list of attendants, including the caterer and the band and all that good stuff,” Gabriel said.

Sam just nodded, devoting himself to his food.

“Are you going back to the studio after dinner?” he asked.

Gabriel lifted a shoulder.  “Mood’s gone. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.  “But you do need to eat.”

Gabriel gave him a half-hearted glare and took another bite of steak.

 

They passed the evening watching TV in Gabriel’s huge living room, Sam sprawled on one end of the couch and Gabriel tucked up tidily on the other, his feet folded underneath him.

When the movie was over, Gabriel stood up and yawned.  “I’m tired,” he said.  “Going to bed.”

Sam stood too.  “You’re not going to slip out on me again, are you?”

Gabriel glared at him.  “ _No_ , asshole, I really am tired and I’m going to bed. Come with me, if you want.” He realized suddenly how that sounded, but it was too late to take it back, so he just stared challengingly at Sam, who grinned easily.

“I’m pretty tired too,” he agreed.

Sam followed him into the bedroom and rolled out his blanket again while Gabriel brushed his teeth and changed in the bathroom.  Gabriel slid under the covers while Sam took his place in the bathroom but he waited until Sam was settled before turning off the light.

He was asleep almost immediately, the stress and exhaustion of the morning pulling him under.

 

He woke up screaming, choking on formless dread that threatened to close his throat and stop his breathing altogether.

Hands caught and steadied him as Gabriel tried to scramble backwards, away from the threat, and Gabriel flailed, lashing out in terror, sobbing as he jack-knifed desperately, trying to get _away_.

“ _Gabe_ ,” a familiar voice said, cutting through the fog of panic.  “Gabe, it’s me, it’s Sam.  Come back to me, Gabe, it was just a nightmare, you’re _safe_.”

Gabriel froze, reality rushing in on him with a startling snap. He was in his bedroom, Sam kneeling in front of him on the bed, moonlight reflecting the worry in those green eyes as he braced Gabriel with a hand on each shoulder.

“Hey,” Sam said softly.  “Deep breaths for me, okay?”

Gabriel dragged in a gulp of air, swaying.  Tears pricked his eyes and he pulled away from Sam’s grip so he could rub his face.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“Stupid,” Gabriel managed.  “Sorry I… woke you.”

“It’s not stupid,” Sam said.  “Your subconscious is trying to deal with a shitload of stuff right now.  Nightmares are an unfortunate but fairly common side-effect of that.”

Gabriel took a shaky breath as the tears spilled over.  “I’m scared,” he whispered.  “I’m so fucking scared and it’s really fucking stupid, what’s he really done but leave a few love letters and a Polaroid?  He hasn’t _done_ anything, but here I am melting down like a Valley girl on a bad hair day over _nothing_.”

Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.  “Stop,” he commanded.  “Stop blaming yourself for having human reactions.  I’d be worried if this _wasn’t_ affecting you, okay?  You have every right to be freaked out, and I’m impressed as hell with the way you’ve been handling yourself so far.”

Gabriel relaxed into Sam’s solid warmth, tilting his head back so he could see Sam’s face. “You are?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t even _like_ me.”

Sam rubbed his arm.  “Don’t be stupid,” he said gently.  “Of course I like you, you idiot.  Come here.” He maneuvered both of them around on the bed and lay down, pulling Gabriel in against him with Gabriel’s back pressed to Sam’s chest, and Gabriel closed his eyes, cradled in Sam’s arms and feeling safer than he could ever remember.

“Just… for a minute,” he mumbled.

Sam tightened his grip briefly.  “Just for a minute,” he agreed.

Gabriel was asleep before Sam had finished his sentence.

 

Gabriel woke up warm and cozy, his face pressed against something firm that smelled faintly of pine and leather. He lay still and assessed.

Fact one—he'd had a nightmare. He vaguely remembered waking up screaming.

Fact two—Sam had been there and had snapped Gabriel out of the terror choking him.

Fact three—it was _Sam_ that Gabriel's nose was pressed against, Sam loose and sleep-heavy with one long arm draped over Gabriel's waist.

Gabriel froze in horror. This wasn't possible. He was still dreaming.

Sam murmured something in his sleep and Gabriel jerked upright as if bitten and rolled away off the bed as Sam startled awake with a grunt and lunged for the gun under his pillow.

Gabriel didn't stop to reassure him that there was no threat.  He just dashed for the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.  He leaned against it and struggled to regulate his breathing. There was silence from the bedroom and Gabriel pressed his ear to the door to try to hear what Sam was doing.

The knock, when it came, made him jerk backward in surprise.

“Gabe?” Sam said quietly.

Gabriel took a deep breath and willed himself to calm.  “Can’t a man take a piss in privacy in his own house?” he snapped.

There was silence for a moment. “Just making sure you’re okay,” Sam said finally.

“Of course I’m okay,” Gabriel said sharply. “Could you kindly shut the fuck up and let me attend to my bodily functions in peace?”

“Of course,” Sam said. 

There was silence then, and Gabriel rubbed his face. _Shit_. He’d really stepped in it this time.

He took care of business and washed his face and hands after, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. When he came out, Sam was sitting on the bed in workout gear.

“Hey,” he said, standing up.

Gabriel didn’t look at him, turning to rummage in the dresser for clothes.

“It didn’t mean anything,” Sam said after a minute. “You know that, right?”

“Well, of course it didn’t _mean_ anything,” Gabriel snapped, straightening. “For it to mean anything, I’d have to feel something for you that wasn’t annoyance or irritation at having to see your stupid face every minute of every day, and believe me, I _don’t_.”

A muscle in Sam’s jaw jumped. “Fine,” he said. “Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

“The only page I’m on is the ‘the get the fuck out of my way so I can go work out’ page,” Gabriel said, pushing past him.

“ _Gabe_ ,” Sam said, and Gabriel’s temper snapped as he spun.

“ _Stop calling me that_ ,” he spat.  “I’m not your friend, I’m not your buddy.  I know you don’t actually like me, so why do you keep pretending you do? I don’t _want_ to be your friend, Sam.  Because from what I’ve heard, your friends end up _dead_.” He shut his mouth, realizing in horror what he’d said, but it was too late.  Sam’s face was frozen in a mask of fury.

“You are the most selfish, spoiled rotten _brat_ I have ever had the displeasure to meet,” Sam hissed.  “God, you don’t care _who_ you run rough-shod over, do you?  Nope, it’s just all ‘me, me, me,’ all day long.  Who gives a shit about anyone else, right?  You are unbelievable.”

He stepped around Gabriel’s stock-still form and disappeared down the hall, leaving Gabriel staring at nothing.

 _You fucked up_.  The taunting voice in Gabriel’s head didn’t belong to him, but he didn’t bother trying to identify it.  He just sank down on the bed and put his face in his hands.

 

When he finally gathered his courage and made it to the basement, Sam was busy in the corner and didn’t look up. Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek and turned on the television and the elliptical machine.

They worked out in silence, and Gabriel decided to skip the bench-pressing.  The last thing he needed was Sam that close to him when they were both still feeling so raw.

He climbed the stairs on wobbly legs and took his shower, closing his eyes against the cool spray as he tried to figure out exactly what to do.

Sam joined him—and Anna, Gabriel saw with a rush of relief—for breakfast, but said nothing, nodding to Anna and sitting down quietly. 

Anna looked between Sam and Gabriel, her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t address it.  Instead she pulled her phone out and slid it to Gabriel.

“Your impromptu meet-and-greet yesterday made the news,” she said.

Gabriel picked up the phone. It was Melissa Barclay, a reporter that Gabriel knew in passing.   She always made sure to get his good side when she talked to him on the red carpet, so Gabriel liked her.

Gabriel hit play on the video and the reporter began speaking.

“Lindsay,” she said to a woman beside her that looked vaguely familiar, “I understand you had something pretty exciting happen to you yesterday?”

The woman nodded, a smile lighting up her plain features.  “I met Gabriel Novak,” she said, beaming into the camera.  “I’ve wanted to meet him for at least ten years—it’s why I begged my husband to let us vacation in California—but I never expected to actually get the _chance_.”

Recognition dawned as Gabriel watched. This was the woman he’d hugged yesterday outside his house, the one who’d told him she loved him. He glanced up at Anna, who made a ‘keep watching’ gesture.

Lindsay was still speaking.   “I’ve written to him, of course, and sent him little handmade gifts and things.  And I always got thank-you notes from his team, but nothing from _him_ , and that was okay, I know he’s super busy, you know?”

Melissa nodded encouragingly.

“Anyway, his music saved me, about ten years ago. It was a rough time for me—I’d lost my daughter to cancer, and there was just something about Gabriel’s lyrics—they spoke to me.  I was going to kill myself, you see.  I thought I didn’t have anything to live for.  But as I was driving to the bridge I was going to jump off, one of his songs came on the radio, and I started listening—really _listening_ —to the lyrics.  And I realized… I couldn’t do it.”  There were tears in Lindsay’s eyes as she spoke, gazing earnestly into the lens of the camera.

“I went home and I told my husband what I’d been planning and I cried.  He cried too, although he won’t admit it now.  But I remembered all the other things I still have to live for.”  Lindsay took a shaky breath.

“Gabriel Novak saved my life. And yesterday, I got to thank him for that.”

Gabriel dropped the phone with a clatter and shoved away from the table.  He was out the door before Anna or Sam could react, plunging headfirst down the hill into his garden as tears blurred his eyes.

Sam found him there, deep in the maze, a few minutes later.

“Gabriel?” he said tentatively.

Gabriel swiped at the tears on his face but didn’t turn.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Sam asked, moving around to face him.  “I thought— _Anna_ thought—that would make you _happy_ , not upset.”

“It’s too much,” Gabriel managed, looking up at him with hazed vision.

“What’s too much?” Sam asked. There was a worried furrow on his forehead, and his hands twitched by his sides as if he wanted to reach out, touch Gabriel, but he didn’t, waiting for him to speak.

Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “You said it yourself. I’m a spoiled rotten brat. I can’t be responsible for someone else’s life, Sam—I can’t have that kind of power.  I don’t deserve it.  I’m not a good person.  I didn’t even recognize her when I saw her on the news!”

Sam caught him by the shoulders as he tried to turn away.  “I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, holding Gabriel’s eyes.  “Yeah, you’re kind of spoiled, but my _God_ , Gabriel, you do so much for your fans.  You’re kind.  You take time to be with them, you _listen_ to them. You’ve proved that you _do_ deserve this.”  He let go with one hand and put a finger under Gabriel’s chin, tilting his face up. “You should be proud, not ashamed,” he said quietly.  “You did a good thing, even though you didn’t know it.”

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, feeling another tear slide down his cheek.  “I’m sorry,” he blurted.  “I’m an asshole, I shouldn’t have said—”

He was cut off by Sam pulling him into his arms, and after the first frozen moment of shock, Gabriel rested his face against Sam’s chest and let the tears flow, clinging desperately to Sam’s shirt.

“You’re under incredible stress,” Sam said when the worst was out of Gabriel’s system, still holding him.  “I think a few asshole moments are to be expected.”

Gabriel sniffled, nodded, and wiped his face on Sam’s shirt.  Sam let go of him and recoiled with a disgusted noise, and Gabriel couldn’t help the watery laugh.

Sam grinned back at him, and just like that, the morning was forgotten.

They made their way out of the little maze in easy silence and found Anna still sitting at the table. She looked up but said nothing as both men sat down, waiting until Gabriel had picked up his fork and begun to eat again.

“So you have the choreographer today,” Anna said.

Gabriel groaned.  “Oh _God_ , and I worked out this morning and everything.  Kill me now.  Please, I’m begging you.”

Anna snorted delicately.  “Please, Gabriel, again with the dramatics? You know you have to get this routine down before the tour.”

Gabriel scowled at his plate and ate another bite of eggs.

 

By mid-afternoon, he’d decided that the planets had aligned specifically to torture one Gabriel Novak, to wit, _him_ , into insanity.

He tugged his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face and shot a glare at Sam, standing off to the side with his arms crossed. They were in Gabriel’s dance studio, with the special wood floor and the wall-to-wall mirrors so that Gabriel’s choreographer, Paul, could see every move Gabriel made and call him out when he took a step wrong.

“Stop pretending you’re not enjoying this,” Gabriel said as he dropped his shirt and got back into position while Paul tapped his toe and sighed impatiently.

“Maybe a tiny bit,” Sam said, lips twitching.

Gabriel glowered at him as Paul smacked his shoulder.

“Pay _attention_ , Gabriel.  Now step, pivot, step-ball-change, _no_ Gabriel, what did I tell you?”

Gabriel suppressed a whimper and tried to pay attention.

 

He made it through the rest of the session with gritted teeth and managed his second shower of the day before collapsing facedown on his bed.

“Leave me alone to die,” he mumbled into the comforter.

Sam laughed quietly from somewhere behind him. “That would make me jobless, so I think that’s a no.  Besides, I’m becoming entertained by the histrionics.  I kind of want to hear what you come up with next.”

Gabriel rolled his head enough to glare at him. “I’m so very glad my pain amuses,” he said icily.

Sam just grinned at him and Gabriel’s lips twitched in spite of himself.

 

That night, Sam laid out his blanket on the floor as Gabriel curled up in the bed and watched him with a hand tucked under his cheek.  Sam lay down and pulled the blanket up and Gabriel waited until he was settled before turning the light off.

They lay in the dark for a few minutes and Gabriel listened as Sam turned over, trying to get comfortable, and finally he sat up and flicked the light back on.

Sam blinked in the sudden glow.

“This is stupid,” Gabriel said. “Bed’s big enough for two, and that floor’s doing your back no favors.  Since you refuse to sleep in the bed I provided for you in your own room, you might as well sleep in this one.”

Sam sat up.  “Are you… sure?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “If you’re asking me whether we’re going to have a repeat of this morning, then no, we’re not.  Would you just… shut up and get into bed already?  You’re no use to me if you’re so stiff from sleeping on the floor that you can’t protect me from potential threats.”

Sam smiled at him and rolled to his feet. He crossed to the bed and slid under the covers that Gabriel held up for him, squirming until he was comfortable.

“I _will_ apologize in advance if you wake up with me humping you,” Sam said as he rolled onto his side. 

Gabriel huffed a laugh and turned off the light. “I won’t take it personally. I _am_ pretty irresistible.”

“Nice to see your self-esteem is still intact,” Sam teased.

Gabriel smiled into the dark. “Goodnight, Sam.”


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel woke up the next morning with Sam draped half across him, grinding a very impressive case of morning wood against Gabriel’s ass.

Gabriel kept very still, holding his breath. Sam’s face was buried in Gabriel’s neck, his breathing deep and even—he was clearly still asleep.

Sam hummed and pressed forward, rubbing a little harder, and Gabriel put a hand against his mouth.  _Oh God_. Sam would be horrified if he woke up in this position.  Gabriel bit his lip and allowed himself one brief, stolen moment of imagining what it would be like to have this, to be able to touch Sam freely, to be touched by him and have it mean something.

And then he carefully slid out from under Sam’s octopus-like limbs, still holding his breath, until Sam mumbled in his sleep and rolled over, clutching a pillow against his chest.

Gabriel soft-footed it to the bathroom as quickly as he could and shut the door behind him, leaning against it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before padding to the shower to turn it on and glancing down at his tented pants.

Sam had no idea, and he _couldn’t_ know.  Gabriel had to keep this to himself.  It was crossing so many lines, shattering so many boundaries, and even someone as immature as Gabriel knew it was wrong to take advantage of his own employee like this.

Gabriel shucked his clothes and stepped into the shower. He was just going to have to take the edge off where Sam couldn’t see and keep his attraction to Sam a secret, locked away under layers of neuroses as God intended.

He wrapped a hand around himself and stifled a groan at the feeling as he began to stroke.  _Fantasies are free_ , he told himself.  As long as he never acted on it, it was okay to imagine Sam taking him, opening Gabriel up and then filling him, covering his body as he thrust deep inside—Gabriel clapped his free hand over his mouth as he came in shaky waves, watching the come swirl away down the drain with the water.

He soaped up and rinsed off quickly, nerves still tingling, and got dressed in the clothes he’d laid out the night before steeling himself to open the door and face Sam, who’d sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Morning,” Gabriel said casually.

Sam didn’t respond.  He was sitting very still, looking at the sliding glass door.

“Sam?” Gabriel asked, rounding the bed.

Sam lunged to his feet and grabbed Gabriel around the waist, pushing him backwards, away from the door.

“Sam, _what_ —” Gabriel stumbled, grabbing at Sam’s shoulders to steady himself. “What the _fuck_ , Sam, what is it?”

“Go in the other room and stay there,” Sam ordered.

“Oh no,” Gabriel said, setting his feet. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain just what the fuck is going on.”  He craned his neck to see around Sam’s broad form, and his eyes widened as he registered the square white envelope taped to the glass, identical to the one he’d found the night he’d gone to the club.  “ _No_ ,” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat.

Sam swore.  “Don’t _move_ , you hear me?” he grated. Gabriel didn’t respond and Sam caught his shoulders and shook him slightly.  “ _Gabe_.  Stand in the doorway out of the way at the very least, _please_.”

Gabriel snapped out of his daze and stumbled backward to the doorway, bracing himself with a hand on either side of the frame as Sam pulled his gun out from under the pillow and slid the door open.

He ignored the note at first to do a quick sweep of the perimeter, assuring himself that no one was lurking, while Gabriel gripped the doorframe tight, panic clogging his throat.

Sam disappeared around the house and Gabriel tried to breathe around the anvil on his chest.  _Sam_.  His lips shaped the word but he couldn’t enough air into his lungs to actually speak.  What if the stalker was still there?  What if he ambushed Sam, caught him unaware, _hurt_ him—Sam reappeared around the corner of the house and Gabriel went to his knees, legs unable to hold him up any longer.

Sam shoved his gun into his pants and dashed into the bedroom to drop to the carpet in front of Gabriel. “Hey, _hey_ ,” he said, cupping Gabriel’s face in both big hands. “I’m here, you’re safe. Look at me, Gabe.”

Gabriel clutched Sam’s wrists, still fighting for air, and met Sam’s eyes, worried and kind.

“You’re okay,” Sam whispered. “You hear me?”

Gabriel nodded fractionally as his breathing began to slowly ease and Sam brushed a thumb over his cheekbone.

“There you are,” Sam murmured. “You up to me looking at the note?”

Gabriel nodded again, swallowing hard.

Sam rocked back onto his heels and stood up in a fluid motion.  He went to his bedside table first and picked up his phone, punching in a number.

“He’s left another note,” he snapped. “Need you here, _now_.”  He hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket, giving Gabriel a quick glance as if to reassure himself that he was still all right before turning back to the door and pulling the envelope off the glass with two fingers.

Stepping back inside, Sam locked the door behind him and dropped the white paper square on the dresser.  He used the pen lying next to Gabriel’s checkbook to ease the flap open and then he shook the envelope by the edge until another Polaroid slid out onto the dresser.

Gabriel levered himself to his feet, his legs shaky, and took a step forward as Sam put out an arm as if to stop him.

“Let me _see_ , Sam,” Gabriel managed.  “Please.”

Sam looked at him, biting his lip, but finally he dropped his arm and let Gabriel get close enough to see.

It was grainy and blurry, but Gabriel could still make out his and Sam’s forms, Sam pressed up against Gabriel’s back with his arm around Gabriel’s waist, their faces relaxed in sleep.

Gabriel pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, struggling to breathe, and used the pen to flip the picture over. There were just three words scrawled there, the lettering jagged and harsh, embedded deeply into the photographic paper as if the writer had jabbed the pen as hard as it would go.

**NO NO _NO_.**

Gabriel dropped the pen and backed up rapidly, shaking his head.

“He thinks—oh God, Sam, _Sam_.”  He clutched at Sam, who reached out to steady him, gripping his arms tight. “You have to go, Sam, you can’t—I can’t risk—you have to _go_.”

“Gabriel, _listen to me_ ,” Sam said, and the steel in his voice made Gabriel freeze. Sam tightened his hands, until a distant part of Gabriel realized he was going to bruise.  He didn’t care.  All he could see was Sam, looming over him, filling his vision.  “I’m not going _anywhere_ ,” he was saying.  “If you think I’m going to leave you to deal with this lunatic now, after this, well… it’s just not going to happen, okay?  You’re stuck with me.”

“But he’ll hurt you,” Gabriel whispered. His lips were numb. “He’ll hurt you, Sam, he’ll _hurt_ you and it’ll be _my fault_ , just like before, just like—” He snapped his mouth shut, the tears welling up, and Sam muttered a rough curse and folded him into his arms.  Gabriel clutched at the back of Sam’s shirt, struggling to stem the flow of tears, while Sam rubbed his spine and murmured soothing words.

Finally, Sam let go and pushed Gabriel back enough to see his face.  “Listen, Gabriel. I was a Marine. I’ve seen things that would _break_ this little punk-ass coward, things that would leave him sobbing on the floor, and I’ve walked away from them.  I’m smarter, I’m faster, I’m better trained, and I guarantee I’m bigger, because I’m bigger than _most_ people.”

That got an unwilling twitch from Gabriel’s lips as Sam continued.

“There’s nothing he can do that will make me leave you, Gabe.  He can’t hurt me, and to use your phrase, I would invite him to _try_.”

Gabriel took a shaky breath and searched Sam’s face. There was nothing but sincerity there, and finally Gabriel nodded.

Sam smiled at him.  “Why don’t you go wash your face?  The cops will be here any minute.”

Gabriel obeyed and was emerging from the bathroom drying his face when a thought struck him and he froze, horrified.

“Gabe?” Sam asked, worry on his brow.

“Sam, the _picture_ ,” Gabriel said.

Sam glanced at the picture and back at Gabriel, clearly confused.

“We’re in bed together,” Gabriel said. “In bed.  _Together._ Clearly pretty damn friendly, even if we’re not actually… you know….” He made a vague motion with his hand and Sam’s eyes creased in amusement.

“Knocking boots?” he suggested.

“I’m serious,” Gabriel insisted. “What’s this going to do to your reputation?”

Sam crossed the bedroom and braced Gabriel with a hand on each shoulder, gazing down at him.  “I’m a big boy,” he said.  “I can handle it.”

“But—” Gabriel protested.

“Look,” Sam interrupted.  “You’re right, in that I’ll get some ribbing from the guys at the station.  But I’m a private contractor—this reflects on no one but myself.  And I can handle the teasing.  We’ll make sure the detective keeps a tight lid on the picture and it doesn’t get leaked, but that’s more for your reputation than mine. Besides.”  He smiled suddenly and Gabriel looked up at him. “I could never be ashamed of people thinking I’m with someone as incredible as you.”

There was a knock on the door and Sam let go of Gabriel, striding to open it as Gabriel gaped after him.

It was his housekeeper’s son, Ben. He was out of breath, as if he’d been running, and Sam smiled down at him.

“Police… here…” Ben gasped.

“Thanks, man,” Sam said.  He glanced back at Gabriel.  “Come on, let’s go talk to them.”

Gabriel followed him to the front door to let the policemen in, his mind still whirling.

 

Halfway through talking to the detective, a stern man named Victor Henriksen with a surprisingly kind voice, Anna arrived in a whirlwind of spitting anger and barely concealed worry.

She bent to look into Gabriel’s face as he sat tucked in on himself at one end of the couch. 

“How are you feeling, Gabriel?” she asked.

Gabriel lifted a shoulder. “Fine,” he said.

Anna straightened and turned to Sam, standing beside the couch, who leaned down to listen as she spoke in a low tone. Sam nodded after a minute and Anna disappeared as quickly as she’d come, down the hall toward the kitchen. Gabriel watched her go without much interest as Sam sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around him as Victor opened his mouth to ask Gabriel a question.

Victor stopped, clearly startled, as Gabriel fell against Sam’s side with a surprised _oof_. After the first stunned moment, though, Gabriel closed his eyes and relaxed into Sam’s embrace with a relieved breath and Sam stroked his arm gently.

Feeling a little steadier, Gabriel met Victor’s eyes again.  “You were saying?”

Victor opened and closed his mouth, rubbing his bald head briefly as if to marshal his thoughts.  “Ah… yes.  Mr. Novak, you say you didn’t hear anything all night, correct?”

Gabriel nodded.  “I slept like the dead last night.” He flinched at his choice of words and Sam pulled him a little closer.  “I didn’t… hear anything.”

“And you, Mr. Winchester?” Victor said.

“Vic, you’ve known me for five years, I think you can call me Sam in front of my boss,” Sam complained.

Victor gave him an annoyed look. “I am _trying_ to stay professional here,” he snapped.  _Unlike others_ hung unsaid in the air.

 “Call him Sam,” Gabriel said, suddenly exhausted.  “I won’t think any less of you, I promise.”

Victor sighed heavily.  “ _Sam_ ,” he said.

Sam shrugged.  “I slept pretty deeply last night too.  Didn’t hear a thing.  Whoever this is, they’ve got light feet.”

Gabriel turned his face into Sam’s chest, inhaling the scent of pine and leather that always seemed to cling to him.

“Are we about done?” Sam asked. “Gabriel needs to go back to bed.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel said automatically, trying to sit up, but Sam held him in place and Gabriel relaxed back against him as Victor nodded.

“Almost done, but I have a few questions for Gabriel that I need to ask him alone, Sam, so if you don’t mind….”

Sam tensed but Gabriel sat up and Sam reluctantly removed his arm.

“Go help Anna in the kitchen,” Gabriel said. “I’ll be fine.”

Sam searched his face and finally nodded before pushing himself to his feet and fixing Victor with a look.

Victor raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, and Sam growled under his breath and stalked down the hall toward the kitchen.

Alone with Gabriel, Victor leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees.   “Mr. Novak, I need to know how long you’ve been in a relationship with Sam Winchester,” he said.  His voice was quiet but firm, brooking no refusals, and Gabriel sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch.

“I’m not,” he said.

“You expect me to believe that you’re in intense physical proximity to the point that you’re literally _sleeping_ with him, but you’re not having sex?” Victor asked, his tone full of disbelief.

“I don’t really care if you believe it or not,” Gabriel said, wrapping his arms around his knees.  “It’s the truth.”

The silence was thick and considering, until finally Victor spoke again.

“And would you, if Mr. Winchester was interested in you?”

At that, Gabriel opened his eyes to glare at him. “That is absolutely none of your fucking business and has nothing to do with your investigation, so why don’t you fuck right off?”

Victor nodded as if Gabriel had answered his question and stood up.  “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I need to know these things so I can do my job properly, Mr. Novak. I will need to get the footage from your security cameras—can Sam help me with that?”

Gabriel nodded faintly.  “I don’t have any cameras in the back garden though,” he said. “Ordered some, after the last break-in, but there was a delay and they haven’t been installed yet.”

“That’s fine, I’ll take what you have,” Victor said. “I believe Marv and Joanie have nearly finished dusting for prints, so as soon as they’re done, we’ll be out of your hair.  Excuse me.”

He headed down the hall after Sam and Gabriel closed his eyes again with a sigh.

Someone sat down next to him after a minute and Gabriel jerked back to alertness, startled.  It was one of the fingerprint technicians, a thin woman in her fifties. She smiled at him apologetically.

“I know this is really bad timing,” she whispered, “but my daughter just loves you, and I was wondering if—” She held out a card and a pen and Gabriel sighed and sat up as the technician’s partner appeared in the doorway.

“Oh my _God_ , Joanie,” he hissed.  He was a short man with curly, silver-threaded hair and he dove forward, grabbing Joanie’s arm as she protested.  “Mr. Novak,” he panted, “I’m so sorry, I’m so _sorry_ , she doesn’t mean any harm—”

“It’s fine,” Gabriel said, and signed his name on the card before handing it back to Joanie, who dimpled at him and clutched it to her chest.

“See, Marv?” she said.  “He doesn’t mind.”

Marv tugged on her arm again and Joanie stood up, still protesting, as Gabriel leaned his head back against the couch. He was so tired.

He drifted off right there, unable to make himself care that there were strangers in his house, and was only barely aware when strong arms gathered him up against a warm, familiar chest.

“Sam,” he whispered, still mostly asleep.

“Anna made you hot chocolate but you’re too tired to drink it,” Sam murmured as he carried through the house. “So you’re going back to bed instead.”

“’M okay…” Gabriel protested, his head lolling against Sam’s shoulder.

“No you’re not,” Sam said flatly. “You’re stressed and terrified and exhausted and you need to recharge.”  He pushed open the door to the bedroom with a foot and crossed the room to lay Gabriel down on the bed.  Pulling the covers up over him, Sam brushed his hair out of his face.  “Sleep,” he said.  “I’m here.”

Sleep closed over Gabriel’s head like a crashing wave, dragging him under before he could respond.


	5. Chapter 5

When he woke up, he was alone in the bedroom, but he could hear the sink running in the bathroom.  Sunlight filled the room, setting the dust motes to dancing, and Gabriel sat up and stretched, yawning.

The water cut off and Sam appeared in the doorway, concern on his face. Gabriel blinked at him.

“Hey,” Sam said.  “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Gabriel decided, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up.  His stomach growled and he grimaced.  “What time is it?”

“Ten,” Sam said.  “Anna’s holding breakfast for you.”

“Bless her,” Gabriel said with feeling. “Have _you_ eaten?”

Sam shook his head.  “I stayed with you.”

Gabriel glared up at him.  “You take your job a little _too_ seriously, man.  You shouldn’t be starving yourself just because I was off having a nervous breakdown!”

“You were dealing with legitimate mental issues,” Sam corrected.  “And I’m not starving myself.  I’ll eat with you, as soon as you’re ready.”

 

Seated at the breakfast table, Anna grilled Gabriel on how he was feeling until Gabriel glowered at her.

“I’m _fine_ , sis,” he snapped.  “Tired of the twenty questions and ready to move on with my day, thank you very much.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Anna said, her forehead wrinkling, and Gabriel sighed.

“I know you are,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m an asshole. I really am okay, I swear. Just… trying to put this behind me.”

“Okay,” Anna said, smiling at him, and Gabriel smiled back as he took another bite of eggs benedict.

Sam leaned forward.  “I think you should cancel Charlie’s birthday party,” he said.

Gabriel dropped his fork.  “No fucking _way_ ,” he sputtered.  “I’ve been planning this for six months, I have, by some _miracle_ , managed to keep it a surprise for her, and there’s no goddamn way I’m canceling the whole thing now!  _No_ , Sam, it’s not going to happen.”

“Gabriel, just hear him out,” Anna urged. “He makes some really good points.”

Gabriel glared at Sam but said nothing.

Sam took that as permission and began to speak. “He’s clearly got eyes on the house. He’s got a way in, whatever it is, and he’s not stopping, Gabe, he’s enraged by us appearing to be in a relationship that’s more than professional, and I’m very afraid he’s going to escalate further.  Since you won’t let me take you away, somewhere _safe_ , I think you should cancel the party, because I’m concerned he’s going to figure out a way to strike while your guard is down.”

“But my guard _isn’t_ down,” Gabriel pointed out.  “My guard is you, and you’re always on duty.  I don’t have anything to worry about while you’re around—you said it yourself.”

Sam took a deep breath, conceding the point. “Throwing the party still leaves you vulnerable, and as good as I am, I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“You don’t have to be,” Gabriel said. “You just have to be with me.”

Sam groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Anna sighed.

“You might as well give up,” she told him. “He’s not going to.”

“Have you gone over the list of guests and caterers and all that?” Gabriel asked Sam.

Sam lifted his head, and Gabriel determinedly didn’t think his hair looked cute, all tousled from his fingers. “Of course.  Several times,” he said.

“And everyone checks out?”

“Yes, Gabriel, everyone checks out,” Sam said, sighing.

“Then what’s the problem?” Gabriel asked.

Sam ran his hands through his hair and said nothing, so Gabriel went back to his breakfast.

“At least let me take on extra security for the party,” Sam said, and Gabriel covered his face.

“ _No_ ,” he snapped.  “No, Sam, I will not have more men in black parading around my gardens and tromping on my roses with their jackboots.  No extra security.” He looked at Sam’s face, tight with frustration, and sighed.  “Look, call the police, ask them to be on standby and do regular drive-bys throughout the evening, okay?  That’ll have to do.”

Sam set his jaw but finally nodded.

Anna glanced between them and sighed. “Business as usual, then?” she said.

Gabriel smiled brightly at her. “Just like always.”

 

The morning of the party, Gabriel woke up in Sam’s arms, his back pressed to Sam’s chest and warm breath stirring the hairs on the nape of Gabriel’s neck.  Gabriel lay still, processing.

He hadn’t any bad dreams since Sam had started sharing his bed.  He knew that they would almost certainly be back, that he wasn’t actually free of the terror stalking his subconscious.  But he also suspected that Sam’s steady presence, the heavy arm currently laying across Gabriel’s waist and the knee nudged between Gabriel’s, also had a lot to do with the fear staying gone.

Gabriel held his breath and wriggled backward, a little closer to Sam’s warmth.  Sam tightened his grip and murmured something in his sleep, and Gabriel closed his eyes. They still had a few minutes before they had to be up.

When he woke up again, they were in the same position.  But Gabriel knew, somehow, that Sam was awake too now, and that he was enjoying the easy intimacy as much as Gabriel was.

Gabriel stretched, careful not to dislodge Sam’s arm.  “Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Sam replied.  It was probably Gabriel’s imagination that he briefly tightened his grip before letting go completely to sit up. “Sleep well?” he asked as he swung his legs out of bed.

“They should bottle you and sell you in drugstores, pal,” Gabriel said as he sat up too.  “You’re quite the soporific.”  He shot a smile over his shoulder at Sam, who snorted a laugh and stood up to stretch, yawning.  Gabriel averted his eyes from the treasure trail that disappeared below the pants that rode low on Sam’s hips and made a dash for the shower.

“No workout today,” he called over his shoulder. “Charlie’s party’s going to take up most of the day.”

The morning was bright and clear, and Sam was a nervous wreck as people began filtering onto the property to decorate the garden, set up for the band, and get the catering tables put together.

He stayed close to Gabriel at all times, snapping orders to various people as Gabriel oversaw everything, until Gabriel lost his patience and pulled him aside.

“ _Sam_ ,” he said.

Sam ran his hands through his hair and shifted his weight, glancing toward where the caterers were setting up tables. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… There are too many people, Gabe, and I don’t have eyes everywhere because you wouldn’t _let_ me, remember, you didn’t want a big team of ‘men in black’, as you referred to them?  I’m just trying to keep you safe.”  There was misery in his eyes when he looked up, and Gabriel drew a startled breath. Surely this was more than professionalism on Sam’s part.

But Sam was already striding away, shouting a command to be still to a gawky teenager dressed in the caterer’s clothing, and Gabriel sighed and followed him.

For all Sam’s seeming nerves, everything went smoothly.  The band was set up on time, the caterers reported no problems and the menu had no hiccups, Charlie was set to arrive any minute, and her presents—inexpertly wrapped by Gabriel, who refused to let anyone else help him—were sitting on the patio waiting for her.

The guests—only about a hundred and fifty, not the three hundred Gabriel had tormented Sam with—were milling around the garden, talking in quiet tones, when the lookout alerted Gabriel that Charlie was pulling up.

“This is it!” Gabriel whisper-hissed, making frantic arm movements until everyone turned to look at him.  “Places, you guys!”  He bolted through the house to the front door, but Sam caught him as he was reaching for the handle.

“You _enjoy_ making my job harder, don’t you?” he said, and Gabriel grinned.

“I like making a lot of things harder, Sammy—it’s not exclusive to just your job.”

Sam groaned and pushed him gently backward, away from the door.  He turned back and glanced through the narrow window beside the door, craning his neck to see, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

“There’s a peephole for exactly that purpose, Sam, why aren’t you using it?”

Sam flicked a look at him, drawing his gun. “Because other people know that’s what the peephole is for, Gabriel, and I don’t want to end up dead because your stalker is waiting on the other side of this door for me to conveniently line up my head for him to take aim at.”

Gabriel swallowed hard.  “That’s… not funny.”

“Good, because I wasn’t joking,” Sam said flatly, and turned the handle.

Charlie blinked up at him, and Sam looked past her, satisfying himself that she was alone.  Only then did he straighten and holster the gun and smile down at her.

“Hey there, Charlie,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

“Hiya, Sam!” she said brightly, bouncing past him to hug Gabriel.  “So where are we going for my party, Gabe-o?”

Gabriel hugged her back.  “I figured a nice, quiet dinner, just the three of us, and then maybe the club.”

“I’ll take the next table over so you guys can be alone,” Sam protested.  “I don’t want to be a third wheel!”

Charlie scoffed and hugged him as well, making Sam’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Please. By now you’re practically family. Besides, I’ve seen the way Gabriel looks at you.  No way are we leaving you to languish by yourself at a table for one.”

Sam shot Gabriel a startled look and Gabriel cleared his throat.

“Uh, Charlie, I’m almost ready to go, but I have to grab something.  The car’s parked behind the house, so let’s go through the patio, okay?”

“O…kay,” Charlie said dubiously, and allowed Gabriel to usher her through the house.

_“SURPRISE!_ ” erupted from several hundred throats as they stepped out onto the stone patio, and Charlie’s mouth fell open. She spun and punched Gabriel in the arm and he dodged backward, laughing.

“You _sneak_!” she sputtered.  “You utter, utter _sneak_!”

“Happy birthday, Charles,” Gabriel said, and hugged her again.  When he let go, he was dismayed to see tears in her big blue eyes.  “Oh, hey, no, please don’t cry!” he said.

Charlie waved a hand and wiped furtively at her eyes.  “I’m sorry, it’s just—no one’s ever thrown me a real surprise party before, I can’t believe you _did_ this!”

“Well, of course I did!” Gabriel said, tugging her down the steps and onto the grass.  “You’re my best friend, you really think I’m not going to celebrate you with everything I’ve got?”

Charlie grinned at him as their friends closed in and Gabriel stood back with a satisfied smile.

Sam moved up to stand next to him and they watched as Charlie hugged people and laughed and talked, her hands moving a mile a minute.

“She’s pretty amazing,” Sam said quietly.

“Damn straight she is,” Gabriel said. “And now it’s time to get drunk.”

Sam’s eyes widened with alarm. “Gabriel—” But it was too late. Gabriel had grabbed a drink off the nearest server’s tray and gulped it down.

He grimaced at the taste—he wasn’t a fan of margaritas neat, usually, but he just snagged another and began to work on it next.

Sam followed him as Gabriel moved through the crowd, handing out hugs and kisses and thanking people for attending. If Sam hovered a little too close, a frown marring that perfect brow, Gabriel elected not to notice.

He kept moving, talking nonstop, lifting drink after drink off the tray and putting them away as quickly as he found them. More kept appearing, and Gabriel wasn’t complaining.

After his fifth—or maybe sixth, he’d lost track—drink, he realized that there was a thunderous scowl on Sam’s face.

“Lighten _up_ , Samshine!” Gabriel said, waving at Gilda, standing next to Charlie down the lawn.  “It’s a party, remember?”

“And you’re knocking them back like there’s no tomorrow,” Sam said.  “What’s with the sudden binge, Gabe?”

Gabriel growled and snatched another drink from a passing tray.  He downed it in two gulps before Sam could stop him, and Sam swore.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he hissed, and Gabriel’s patience, what was left of it, snapped.

“ _Everything_ ,” he snarled, driving a finger at Sam’s chest and knocking him back a step.

Sam rubbed his sternum, watching him with troubled eyes.

Gabriel just glared up at him, daring him to say something.  Sam glanced around at the number of people pretending not to look at them, and caught Gabriel’s wrist in one big hand.

He towed him toward the living room and Gabriel set his feet at first, trying to halt their forward progress, but Sam didn’t even seem to notice, so Gabriel decided walking was preferable to being dragged.

Sam hauled him into the living room and let him go, and Gabriel jerked away, rubbing his wrist where Sam’s fingers had dug in.

“What the _fuck_ has gotten into you?” he demanded.  “I’m not even allowed to have fun at my own party now?”

Sam spun on him, green eyes like chips of jade in his hard face.  “That’s not what this is and you know it,” he snapped.  “You’re grabbing drinks from anyone, you’re not allowing me to do _my_ job and keep tabs on who’s close to you, you’re all _over_ the place, it’s like you’re on self-destruct mode and nothing’s going to stop you. Well, _I’m_ going to stop you, okay?  I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”

Gabriel stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open.  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?  I’m trying to have a _good time_ , Sam, I’m not ‘self-destructing’.  I’m just trying to have some fun!”

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. “You’re terrified, and you’re drowning your fears in alcohol and reckless behavior because that’s what you _do_ , you don’t face what’s scaring you.  You avoid it until you can’t anymore, and then it all crashes down on top of you like a ton of fucking bricks.  Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not standing by and letting you spiral down that slope.”

Gabriel’s mouth was all the way open now and it took him a minute to find words.  “Who gave you the fucking _right_?” he hissed. “You’re not my nanny, you’re not my therapist, you’re my bodyguard.  _Body_ guard, Sam. Meaning you guard my _body_ , you don’t babysit me, you don’t psychoanalyze me, and you sure as fuck keep your nose _out of my fucking business_!”

He glared at Sam, who glared back, his jaw clenched.

“Maybe you should just quit,” Gabriel said abruptly, and Sam’s mouth fell open.

“ _No_ ,” he said.

“Why not?” Gabriel demanded. “I’ll give you a good severance package and excellent references, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. “It’s not, but I’m not quitting.”

“Fine, you’re fired,” Gabriel said, and stormed from the room.  He wasn’t sure where he was going— _away_ , basically—but Sam caught up to him in the hall. 

He grabbed Gabriel’s arm and jerked him around. Off-balance, Gabriel fell against Sam’s chest with a grunt, but Sam didn’t give him a chance to react. He caught Gabriel’s shoulders in both hands and crushed their mouths together.

Gabriel froze in shock.  This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be _real_.  He was dreaming again, he’d passed out from the alcohol and he was having his favorite dream, the one where Sam held him so tenderly and caressed his face so gently, and it was soft and warm and loving and—no, this wasn’t a dream.

Sam’s fingers bit deeply into Gabriel’s arms, his mouth tasted of pineapple juice and his stubble rasped against Gabriel’s skin almost painfully.  There was a crick in Gabriel’s neck from the way Sam had tilted his head back to get a better angle, and Gabriel’s mouth fell open with a shaky moan.

He was drowning, caught in a riptide, and he was being swept downstream, his head whirling and his knees weak as Sam pressed inside, taking possession of Gabriel’s mouth so easily that it was as if he belonged there, as if there was nowhere in the world that he was more at home than in Gabriel’s dark front hall, kissing Gabriel like he’d never been kissed before.

Gabriel couldn’t breathe.  He didn’t _want_ to breathe.  He didn’t want to do anything that involved less of Sam, and he couldn’t stifle the unhappy whimper that fell from his mouth when Sam broke away just enough to nip at Gabriel’s neck.

He nosed his way up and down the column of Gabriel’s throat, pausing to give the soft skin under Gabriel’s ear special attention, licking and nibbling until Gabriel was a shaking mess, begging in shaky gasps for _more, Sam, please_.

He was so hard he was aching. He rolled his hips forward against the thigh that Sam pushed between his legs, shuddering at the bliss that rolled through him with each trembling thrust.

“Sam,” he managed.

Sam lifted his head.  His eyes were blown in the dim light from the running strips set into the floor, his mouth swollen, and he flicked his tongue out briefly to lick his lips.  Gabriel followed the movement, barely suppressing another whimper, and Sam’s mouth curved upward.

He glanced around and took Gabriel’s hand, tugging him along behind him and into the coatroom.

Sam shut and locked the door behind Gabriel, who was glancing around the tiny room, lined with coats and jackets of all shapes and sizes.

“Are you serious?” Gabriel whispered.

Sam advanced on him, his eyes gleaming. “You’re going to have to be very quiet,” he said in a predatory growl that made Gabriel swallow hard. Sam bent and kissed him again and Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, cooperating willingly as he felt Sam’s hands working at his belt, pulling and growling under his breath until it gave with a disappointed jingle and Sam tugged it out of Gabriel’s belt loops.

Gabriel was only vaguely aware of what Sam was doing below the waist—all he could really process was Sam’s lips on his, the way he’d gentled the kiss and deepened it, licking into Gabriel’s mouth with an easy assuredness that made Gabriel’s knees threaten to give out entirely.

Just before that happened, Sam pushed him backward, until Gabriel fetched up against the wall with a thump and Sam shoved his knee between Gabriel’s thighs again so Gabriel was straddling Sam’s leg.

“Very quiet,” Sam repeated, and pulled Gabriel’s zipper down to close one huge hand around Gabriel’s length.

Gabriel stifled a moan and his head fell back against the wall with an audible thud.  “ _Sam_ ,” he choked as Sam began to stroke, hard and fast.

Sam brought his free hand up and clamped it over Gabriel’s mouth, never losing rhythm, and Gabriel’s eyes flew open, startled.

Sam grinned at him and stroked him a little harder, smooth and fast and almost exactly the way Gabriel liked it and Gabriel groaned into Sam’s palm, his body jerking with every slide of Sam’s fist, nerves zinging as the pressure built at the base of Gabriel’s spine.

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck again, hanging on for dear life, and Sam leaned forward just enough to press their foreheads together, still stroking, and Gabriel managed to sob a warning just before the dam broke and he bit down hard on Sam’s hand as the bliss overwhelmed him and he came in helpless throbs over Sam’s other hand.

Sam gentled him through it, crooning soft nonsense in Gabriel’s ear as Gabriel clung to him and struggled to find his bearings.

When he finally lifted his head, awareness creeping back by degrees, Sam smiled at him from a few inches away and kissed him, a soft, barely-there, brush of lips.

“I’m not quitting,” he murmured, and met Gabriel’s eyes, steel in his voice.  “And you’re not firing me.  My place is by your side.”

Gabriel swallowed hard, still dazed by alcohol and endorphins, but finally he just nodded, and the smile on Sam’s face lit up the tiny room.

He didn’t let Gabriel enjoy the afterglow for long, though.  Within a minute or two, he’d whipped out a pack of tissue from somewhere and he cleaned Gabriel up with quick, gentle motions as Gabriel held onto his shoulders, still trying to get his bearings.

When he was done, he tucked Gabriel away and zipped his pants back up before meeting his eyes again.

Gabriel looked up at him in the dim light and Sam smiled.

“I didn’t know you even felt that way,” Gabriel said.

Sam’s smile widened.  “I’ve felt that way since I first saw you lounging on that couch with a mojito in your hand.  Granted, there have been times I wanted to turn you over my knee and _spank_ you, but for the most part… yeah. I’ve wanted you a long damn while, Gabe.”

Gabriel swallowed convulsively and tugged him down into a kiss.  “I’m sorry I’ve made your job so much harder,” he whispered against Sam’s lips.

Sam kissed him back, soft and tender. “You’ve also made it incredibly worth it, so don’t apologize.”

They stumbled out of the coatroom, disheveled and laughing, and Gilda found them in the hall and pounced, her dark eyes huge with worry.

“Something’s happened to Charlie,” she said.


	6. Chapter 6

Gabriel and Sam burst out into the back garden, frantic with worry, to discover a knot of people around Charlie’s still form.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Gabriel shouted, shoving his way through the crowd to kneel next to her. 

“Back off,” Sam was saying above him to the onlookers.  “Give her some room, come on now, step back, please.”

The spectators gave grudging ground and Sam put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.  “Ambulance is on its way,” he said quietly.

Gabriel just nodded, focused on Charlie’s pale face, her eyes closed and mouth slack.  “What happened?” he asked Gilda, who was kneeling on Charlie’s other side.

Gilda lifted a shoulder, clearly miserable. “She was laughing and talking and then a little after you guys went inside, she said she had a headache, she thought she needed to lie down.  I told her I’d get her into the house and she could rest on the couch, but she collapsed halfway there and I came to find you.”

“How much did she have to drink?” Gabriel asked, rubbing Charlie’s limp hand.

“Not that much more than me, I don’t think,” Gilda said, “but I wasn’t really keeping score, you know?”

“It’s not your fault,” Gabriel told her, unable to look away from Charlie, lying too still.  Charlie should never be so quiet—she was alive and vibrant in the best possible way, and it felt _wrong_ to see her unmoving. 

Sam touched Gabriel’s shoulder again. “Garth says the ambulance is here,” he said.  “They’re coming through the house now.”

Gabriel nodded again, biting his lip. _Please be okay, Charlie.  I can’t lose you too._

Then the paramedics were there and Sam was gently pulling Gabriel out of the way so they could work.  Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders from behind and Gabriel leaned back into Sam’s solid bulk, clutching Sam’s wrists as they watched the EMTs and Gilda answered the questions they peppered her with.

“Probably just had too much to drink,” one of the paramedics told Gabriel as they lifted Charlie onto the gurney. “But we’ll take her to the hospital, run some tests, make sure.”

“Good,” Gabriel said, his throat tight. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“Garth’s already brought the car around,” Sam said. “He’s ready when you are.”

Gabriel squeezed Sam’s wrist in a silent thank you and they headed back through the house to follow the ambulance to the hospital.  Anna stayed behind to close down the party and say goodbye to the guests, but Gilda asked if she could come with Sam and Gabriel, and Gabriel just gestured for her to get in the car.

The ride to the hospital was tense and silent, Gabriel on the edge of his seat the entire time.  Sam rested his hand on Gabriel’s knee as they pulled into the parking lot, and Gabriel jerked, startled.  Sam just patted Gabriel’s thigh and opened the door to step out, saying nothing.

They were shown to a private room where they could wait without being bothered, and Sam took a seat between Gabriel and the door.

After several long, miserable hours of waiting, a thin older woman let herself into the room.

“Mr. Novak?” she said.

Gabriel was on his feet instantly. “That’s me,” he said. “Is she—I mean, did you….” He rubbed his mouth, unsure what he was asking.

“I’m Dr. Mills,” the woman said. “Miss Bradbury will be fine.”

Gabriel’s knees threatened to buckle and Sam put a hand on his arm to steady him as Gilda covered her mouth.

“Thank God,” Gabriel managed. “What happened?”

Dr. Mills smiled at him.  “It looks like a simple case of over-consumption, but we’ve taken blood and we’ll be doing some tests to be sure.  In any case, she’ll stay in the hospital overnight, but she should be fine to go home tomorrow.”

Gilda frowned but the doctor didn’t notice, shaking Gabriel’s hand and smiling at them all before letting herself back out of the room.

Gabriel sat down and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, she’s gonna be fine.”

Sam sat down beside him and rubbed his back. “Let’s get you home, you’re exhausted.”

Gabriel shook his head.  “No, I should stay in case she needs something.”

“I’ll stay,” Gilda said, making both men look up. She hunched her narrow shoulders but lifted her chin.  “I mean… I _want_ to stay, and you look really tired, Mr. Novak, you should go home and rest.  I’ll make sure Charlie doesn’t want for a thing, and if there are any problems, I’ll call you.”

“You’ve been dancing with me for nearly a year,” Gabriel said, rubbing his face.  The prospect of bed _was_ incredibly enticing, he had to admit.  “I think you can call me Gabriel now.”

Gilda’s smile bloomed slow and sweet across her delicate face.  “Gabriel,” she said. “Go home.”

Gabriel smiled back at her and stood up, wavering a little.  Sam stood too and caught his arm as Gabriel swayed toward him.

“Come on,” he said.  “There’s a nice, soft bed at home with your name on it.”

Gabriel followed him to the car, yawning, and dozed off halfway home, his head on Sam’s shoulder.

When Garth pulled the car into the driveway and parked, Sam woke Gabriel by patting his arm.

“Hey,” he murmured.  “We’re home.   Looks like the guests are gone, you’ve got your house to yourself again.”

Gabriel stretched and yawned and unfolded himself, sliding out of the vehicle and flipping a hand at Garth, who waved back cheerfully and headed for the garage as Gabriel trailed up the steps behind Sam and waited for Sam to unlock the door.

Inside, Gabriel reset the alarm system while Sam locked the door behind them, and then Gabriel stumbled down the hall towards his bedroom, Sam beside him, his hand warm on the small of Gabriel’s back.

“You go change into pajamas and brush your teeth while I do a quick sweep of the house and make sure everything’s secure, okay?” Sam said.

Gabriel nodded and pulled his favorite sweatpants out of the dresser as Sam left the room.  He changed and tugged on one of last season’s tour T-shirts, swearing under his breath as his finger got caught in a hole on the hem. _Cheap material.  Need to find a distributor that uses a better quality fabric for this year’s tour._

He could hear Sam’s footprints down the hall as he wandered toward the bathroom, stuffing his fist in his mouth around yet another yawn.  Pushing the door open, he flicked the lights on and rummaged in the drawer for his toothbrush before finally straightening and looking in the mirror.

Gabriel’s blood froze in his veins at the sight of the jagged red letters scrawled across the glass’s surface. _Oh no, please, no…_

“Everything's secure,” Sam said from the bedroom.  "Just us again."

Gabriel couldn’t answer.  He was rooted in place, staring at the words, and he couldn’t make his limbs work.

Bright, shocking red, a scarlet scream that stopped Gabriel’s breath.

_Oops. Catch you next time. ;)_

And then Sam was next to him, taking in the situation and swearing, low and vicious, as he drew his gun and put Gabriel at his back to assess the threat level.  Gabriel clutched at Sam’s shirt with numb fingers, panic lapping at his knees and creeping up over his waist as Sam swept the room and made sure they were alone.

Only then did Sam holster his weapon and turn to face Gabriel.  “Hey,” he said, bending to look into his eyes.  “Are you okay?”

Gabriel shook his head as the terror closed over his head and he began to gasp.  “He was… _here_ ,” he choked. “Was… here, Sam, in… my house, my _bedroom_ , he was—” He couldn’t breathe.  There was an anvil on his chest and fear was howling in his mind.  Was he screaming?  Or was that only in his head?  He didn’t know, couldn’t tell, and didn’t particularly care.  “Not… safe, have to— _Sam_ , _please_ ….”

Gabriel’s knees gave way and Sam scooped him up into his arms before he could hit the floor.  He carried him out of the bathroom but when he tried to lay him on the bed, Gabriel jackknifed, struggling desperately and sobbing as he clawed at Sam’s arms.

“No, _no_ ,” he begged, “he’s _here_ , Sam, please don’t make me, I can’t—”

Sam swore and swung Gabriel back up into his arms. Gabriel burrowed in as close as he could to Sam’s chest and hung on, trembling violently as Sam took him through into the tiny bedroom that he’d never used and sat down on the bed with Gabriel in his lap.

“Breathe, baby,” Sam said, rocking him back and forth.  “Deep breaths, in and out. You can do it. I’m getting you out of here, you hear me?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and dialed.  “Garth,” he snapped when it picked up, “bring the car back around, _right now_.  I’ll be outside in two minutes, I want the car there when I walk out the door.” He hung up and pushed the phone back into his pocket before cupping Gabriel’s face.  “We’re leaving, right now,” he said.

Gabriel barely heard him, still clinging to him and trembling so hard his teeth were chattering, but he managed a nod.

“Just hold on,” Sam said, and stood up. He charged through the house at top speed, out the front door, down the steps, and into the waiting car. “ _Drive_ ,” he commanded Garth, who was looking startled and worried.

Garth obligingly put the car into gear and they rolled out of the driveway and down the road.  Sam stopped him before they’d made it two blocks though.

“Pull over and park,” he directed.

Gabriel clutched at Sam as he tried to get out, and Sam covered Gabriel’s hands with his own.

“I have to make sure the car is cleared, and I have to talk to Garth.  You’ll be able to see me the entire time, okay?  Just keep your eyes on me.  I’m right here, I’m not leaving you.”

Gabriel swallowed hard but let go of Sam’s sleeve, and the smile he got almost made it worth it.  Sam stepped out of the car and motioned for Garth to get out as well.  Garth obeyed, closing the door behind him, and he and Sam spoke in quiet tones for a minute. Then Garth leaned back in and popped the trunk, giving Gabriel a rueful smile where he was huddled on the backseat, and he and Sam began going over the car.

Gabriel didn’t know what they were looking for and didn’t particularly care.  He kept his eyes on Sam’s tall form the entire time, focusing on the way Sam’s hair fell over his high forehead and his mouth, tight with determination.

After a few minutes, Sam straightened from his examination of the last wheel-well and nodded at Garth, who nodded back and turned to jog up the hill toward the house.

Sam opened the back door and leaned in. “I’m driving from here. Do you want to be up front with me or stay in the back?”

“Front, _please_ ,” Gabriel said, scrambling out.  He crawled into the front seat as Sam slid in behind the wheel and glanced over at him.

“You need to be buckled, but I want you down, where no one can see you,” Sam said.  “So if you buckle loosely and then slide sideways, I think you can put your head on my thigh, if you want to try—”

Gabriel was already in position before Sam was done talking, curling up on the bench seat with his head in Sam’s lap, his frame still racked with tremors.

Sam put the car in gear and then rested a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder as it began to roll.

“Rest,” he said quietly.  “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and eventually he fell asleep, pulled under by exhaustion and terror and the steady purr of the engine.


	7. Chapter 7

When he woke up, it was daylight, and he was alone in the car.  Gabriel sat up straight, looking around wildly, and relaxed as he caught sight of Sam pushing open the gas station door and striding toward him, his arms filled with snacks.

Gabriel leaned over and opened the door for him and sat back against his own door as Sam slid behind the wheel and deposited his armload between them before inspecting Gabriel’s face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Gabriel took stock.  His mouth was cottony and his joints ached. He felt as if he’d been cored and filled with sandpaper, rubbing him raw from the inside out.  He lifted a shoulder.  “Fine,” he said.

Sam’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t pursue the obvious lie.  “Look, I got you stuff for that sweet tooth of yours,” he said instead.  “Payday, Baby Ruth, Snickers—I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I cleaned them out.”

Gabriel fingered the edge of a Milky Way bar, feeling awe fill him.  “Sam,” he whispered.

“I also got drinks,” Sam interrupted, pulling them out of his jacket.  “Coke, because I know you like that, but I also got chocolate milk and iced tea, in case you prefer that.”

Gabriel picked up a bottle of chocolate milk, rubbing his thumb over the condensation beading on the plastic.

“Drink that,” Sam directed as he put the car in gear.  “We’ll stop for lunch soon, but that’ll hold you over until then.”

Gabriel obeyed, closing his eyes at the sweet, nutty flavors of cocoa and milk combined on his tongue. He drained half the bottle before putting the lid back on and looking at their surroundings, which appeared to be mostly desert, punctuated by the occasional scrubby tree.

“Where are we?”

“South and west of LA,” Sam said. “We still have about an hour’s drive. We can eat on the road, or we wait until we get where we’re going.  Your call.”

“Where exactly _are_ we going?”

Sam shot him a smile, reaching for a soda. “My brother’s campground.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.  “Your—are you _serious_ right now?”

“Yes?” Sam said, his brow furrowing. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Gabriel waved a hand, his powers of speech deserting him momentarily.  “You… this… _why_?”

“Because no one knows about it!” Sam said. “Because it’s _safe_ , Gabriel, I can protect you there, and you can rest and rejuvenate.”

“And become one with nature?” Gabriel sniped, slumping back against the seat and staring out the window.

“You don’t have to become one with nature unless you actually _want_ to,” Sam said, slanting a smile at him, and Gabriel’s lips twitched unwillingly. “You need a place to hide out for awhile, a break from everything.  Dean’s got the room and he can take us.  I told Anna where we are, and she’s handling things on her end.”

Gabriel sighed and took another swig of chocolate milk, watching the desert rolling by.  “Don’t expect me to be nice,” he warned Sam.  “I don’t _like_ nature.”

Sam laughed quietly and downshifted. “Noted.  Do you want to eat on the road or once we get there?”

Gabriel shivered a little and hoped Sam hadn’t noticed.  The thought of being recognized, of being in the public eye, filled him with a startling sense of dread.

“Is, um… is Dean a decent cook?” he asked, trying for a casual tone.

“I think you could call his cooking ‘adventurous’,” Sam said, glancing at him.  “Think macaroni and cheese with marshmallow fluff.”

Gabriel pretended to vomit and Sam laughed outright.

“Yeah, I know, but he’s gotten a lot better as he’s gotten older.  Cas does the baking, Dean does the cooking and grilling.  They’ll be happy to set two extra places if you want to eat there.”

“I… yeah,” Gabriel said, sitting up a little straighter.  “Let’s eat there.”

Sam turned on the radio as he drove and Gabriel leaned his head against the window.  He snorted a little as a popular song came on.

“What?” Sam said.

“Nothing,” Gabriel said.  “Just… you know those rumors that she got a really racy tattoo after she split from her boyfriend?”

Sam nodded.

“Totally true,” Gabriel said. “I’ve seen it.”

Sam grinned.  “What is it?”

“That would be telling,” Gabriel said, lips twitching.  He watched Sam’s profile as he drove, big hands loose and easy on the wheel, thumb tapping to the beat of the music.  “I don’t have any clothes,” he said after a minute.

Sam nodded.  “I know.  I’m sorry, but getting you out of town was priority.  We’ll stop somewhere.”

Gabriel looked skeptical.  “Is there a Rodeo Drive in the middle of BFE?”

Sam’s lips curved up.  “We’ll go to Wal-Mart,” he said.

“We’ll do _what_?” Gabriel demanded, sitting up straight.  “You’re joking.  Tell me you’re joking, Sam.  Please tell me you’re not actually serious right now.”

Sam laughed out loud and patted Gabriel’s knee. “Watch the scenery,” he advised. “It’s actually really pretty.”

“It’s _dirt_ ,” Gabriel muttered, slumping in his seat again.  “What’s pretty about dirt?”

“You’re cute when you pout,” Sam said, grinning.

Gabriel scowled harder, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

 The desert gave way to small trees, which turned into larger trees, and before long, they were winding their way through a thick forest, with canopied branches that vaulted high overhead. 

“Okay,” Gabriel admitted, gazing up at the trees. “This is actually kinda pretty.”

“I knew you’d come around,” Sam teased. “Oh, I forgot! Gilda called while you were asleep.”

Gabriel patted his pockets, startled, and Sam pulled Gabriel’s phone out of his own pocket and handed it over.

“How did you get it out without me waking up?” Gabriel asked as he unlocked it.

“I’m really good with my hands,” Sam said, a smile playing on his mouth.

“As I have occasion to know,” Gabriel muttered half under his breath.  He found Gilda’s number and called her and she picked up on the first ring.

“Oh, Gabriel, thank God you’re okay. Anna told me what happened.”

“How’s Charlie?” Gabriel asked.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Gilda said. “She woke up this morning, asking for food.  But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  She said she only had three drinks last night.  She doesn’t understand how that little bit of alcohol would make her pass out—it usually takes a lot more than that to put her under.”

Gabriel was chewing on his lip, staring unseeing at the trees outside.  “She’s right,” he said quietly.  “She usually outdrinks me.”

“We’re still waiting for the tests, but….” Gilda trailed off unhappily.

“But she may have been roofied,” Gabriel finished. “Give her my love, Gilda. Thank you for taking care of her for me.”  He hung up before she could answer and drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “Charlie drank something that was meant for me,” he said out loud.

Sam slowed and Gabriel looked up. “What are you doing?”

Sam didn’t answer at first, preoccupied with pulling off the road onto the shoulder.  He parked the car and unclicked Gabriel’s seatbelt, tugging until Gabriel made an unhappy noise and slid across the bench seat to fetch up against Sam’s side.

Sam didn’t seem to care that they were crushing the snacks.  He wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders and held on tight, and after the first minute, Gabriel closed his eyes and relaxed into it.

He was safe, here.  It didn’t matter what was happening—he was with Sam, and that meant that nothing and no one could touch him.

He didn’t know how long it was before Sam loosened his grip and let Gabriel sit up.  Sam put one long finger under Gabriel’s chin and tilted his face up.

“Okay?” he murmured.

Gabriel closed his eyes.  He was so very far from okay, but what was the point in admitting that?  “Yeah,” he said instead.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Sam said, amusement threading through his voice, but he didn’t push it. He just restarted the car and pulled back onto the road as Gabriel buckled himself back in.

“How much further?” Gabriel asked after a few minutes.

“Not far,” Sam said, leaning forward as if looking for something out the window.  “We should be close—aha!  There, see?” Gabriel followed his pointing finger to the sign that said Joshua Tree National Park Campground. Sam slowed and turned as Gabriel swallowed and sat up a little straighter.

They wound their way down a narrow road that was nevertheless in excellent condition.  When Gabriel commented on that, Sam nodded.

“Cas and Dean keep this place in really good shape. It’s very popular with tourists, and they’re both relentless about everything being as spotless as possible.”

He rolled into a small paved lot and then bumped off the tarmac onto a dirt road that curved back into the trees.

“They live at the back of the campground,” Sam explained, to Gabriel’s quizzical look.  “Cas likes the privacy.”

Finally they fetched up in front of a modest two-story house, painted eggshell blue, with a wide veranda running around what looked like the whole building.

Gabriel got out and stretched as the front door slammed open and a lean man burst out and down the steps to engulf Sam in a hug, a slightly shorter man following at a more contained pace. Sam staggered backward, laughing, and slapped the man—Dean, Gabriel assumed—on the back.

“Gabriel, this is my big brother Dean,” Sam said. “He’s older than me but I’m still taller.”

Dean glared at Sam briefly and turned to shove a hand at Gabriel, his green eyes sparkling.  “You may be taller, but I’m older, wiser, and definitely more handsome. Good to meet you. Sam said you’ve had some troubles, need somewhere to lie low and recharge for a while.  You’ve come to the right place.”

Gabriel shook his hand, unable to stop his smile. “Thanks for having me.”

Dean glanced behind him at the man who had followed him outside.  “Gabriel, this is my husband, Castiel.  Cas, this is Gabriel Novak.  You’ve probably never heard of him, since all you listen to is operas and other really boring shit, but he’s super famous and actually knows how to handle a guitar.”

Castiel wasn’t as tall as his husband but was just as handsome, with black hair that stood up in an untidy shock and bright blue eyes.  He smiled at Gabriel and shook his hand.  “We’re glad to have you, Gabriel,” he said, his voice like whiskey-soaked gravel.  “And opera is _not_ boring, Dean.”

Dean chortled and slung an arm around Sam’s neck. “C’mon, let’s get you guys to your cabin so you can unpack.”

“We didn’t actually bring any luggage,” Sam said, and Dean let go of him to stare.  Sam shrugged.  “We were in a hurry. We’ll go shopping this afternoon.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, and set off down a little path behind the house.  “Your cabin’s down this way.  We gave you guys the swank one.  You’ve got your own private pond and no one’s going to bother you there.  You guys can go hiking and swim or tan all day long, whatever your little hearts desire.”

“It sounds great,” Gabriel said, falling into step beside Sam, who smiled at him.  “I’ll pay you for the use of the cabin, of course, going rates.”

“You will _not_ ,” Dean said flatly, without breaking pace.

“But—” Gabriel protested.

“But nothing,” Dean said.  “What kind of person would I be if I made my own brother pay to stay in my place of business?  Nah, man, you stay as long as you want and don’t worry about the cost.”

“He means it,” Sam said, when Gabriel opened his mouth to argue.  “Don’t bother, Gabe.”

Gabriel scowled, stepping over a fallen branch. “I don’t like taking charity,” he muttered.

“It’s not charity, you’re with my brother, so you’re family,” Dean said.  “There she is!” He pointed and Gabriel’s eyes widened as he stepped through the last of the trees into a clearing, where a small cabin stood at the edge of a lake.

It boasted tall windows set into dark wood, and nestled in among the trees that vaulted over it as if it had been grown there rather than built. 

“Oh,” Gabriel breathed.  He felt peace stealing into his soul as he gazed at it.

Sam laughed and patted his back. “That’s the right reaction. Come on, you wanna see what it’s like inside?”

“Yes please,” Gabriel said immediately, and followed the others down the path to the cabin.

Inside, there were twenty-foot ceilings, a tiny kitchen and a huge living room with a bed at the far end. An enormous bathtub sat on a dais at a right angle to the bed, and Gabriel cocked an eye at Dean, who just snickered.

“It’s the honeymoon cabin, dude. You don’t have to _use_ it.  Bathroom’s through there.”  He gestured to the door standing open past the bathtub and Sam hugged him again as Castiel glanced around, his eye critical.

“Thanks again, man,” Sam said to Dean, who slapped him on the back.  “And you know the drill, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, waving a hand. “Not a word to anyone. Don’t worry about it. Your privacy— _Gabriel’s_ privacy—is safe here.  You guys take some time, settle in.  Lunch is in half an hour.”

Gabriel waited for them to leave before pushing the small sliding glass door off the kitchen open and stepping out onto the tiny deck over the water.  He leaned his forearms on the railing and looked at the trees on the far side of the little pond. Sam came out after a minute and leaned against the railing next to him, the silence wrapping around them warm and comforting.

Finally, Sam straightened. “Ready for lunch? We’ll go into town after.”

Gabriel nodded and followed him out of the cabin and down the path.

 

Lunch was a comfortable, laughing affair, with Dean grilling hamburgers and Castiel making salad and pasta to accompany. Neither man asked Gabriel any questions, focusing their attentions on Sam, but Gabriel was still relieved when Sam pushed away from the table and stood up, wiping his mouth.

“You guys are still my culinary dream team,” he said, “but Gabe and I need to go to town and get some supplies.”

Gabriel gravely thanked both Dean and Castiel for the meal and then followed Sam out the door.  “So where are we going?” he asked as they got into the car.

“Wal-Mart,” Sam said.  “Buckle up.”

Gabriel groaned.  “I thought you were joking about that,” he said as he buckled.

“It’s that or Dollar General,” Sam said dryly as he followed the road through the trees.

Gabriel slumped in his seat and crossed his arms, scowling, and Sam just laughed.  A thought struck Gabriel and he sat up again.

“Wait, how am I paying for this?” he asked. “We took off without anything. I don’t think I even have my wallet!”

“Anna wired me some money from Western Union,” Sam said as he pulled onto the highway and began to accelerate. “Should be enough to tide you over until your wallet gets here, which she’s mailing to you.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said.  “That was thinking.”

Sam sent him a smile.  “I do have my moments.  In any case, I don’t want you using your credit cards until this blows over.”

“But Sam, I don’t _use_ cash!” Gabriel protested.  “I use my cards for everything!”

“You’ll just have to learn how to, like the rest of us peasants,” Sam said, but the smile took any sting out of his words. “Cards can be tracked, Gabe. I don’t know how electronically gifted our stalker is, but I don’t want to give him any clues.”

Gabriel sighed again, ceding the point.

Sam parked outside the Western Union, putting his sunglasses on and telling Gabriel to stay in the car. “It’s under my name, since yours is a little too recognizable,” he said.  “I’ll be right back.”

He was true to his word, hurrying across the sunny parking lot and sliding back into the car within a few minutes. He handed over a thick sheaf of bills and Gabriel accepted them, folding and shoving them into his pocket without looking.

“The receipt is there,” Sam said as he started the car again.  “It’s the full amount.”

Gabriel stared at him, stunned. “Sam, do you really think I… have I _ever_ given you the impression that I don’t trust you?  Of course it’s the full amount—it never occurred to me that it wouldn’t be!”

Sam was pulling out of the parking lot and he braked at the very real hurt in Gabriel’s voice.  “Hey, whoa,” he said gently.  “I just wanted to be sure you didn’t think I was taking advantage of you or anything.”

“You’ve proven several times over that you’re not that kind of person,” Gabriel said, slightly mollified. “I think we’re past that.”

Sam started the car again. “Come on, let’s go get you some clothes.”

In the Wal-Mart parking lot, Sam handed Gabriel his sunglasses.  “Here,” he said. “Keep your head down. We’ll buy you a ball cap, too.”

Gabriel followed Sam through the aisles, muttering under his breath at the lack of selection.  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he said as Sam held up a shirt under Gabriel’s chin and nodded before adding it to the growing pile in the cart.

Sam fixed him with a look. “Gabe.  I like you a lot, I really do.  But you’re being such a _snob_ right now.”

Gabriel muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath and Sam laughed out loud.

“You should _not_ be so cute,” he said.  “It leaves the rest of us at an unfair disadvantage.”

Gabriel didn’t reply as Sam headed down yet another aisle, but a warm feeling spread under his breastbone, and he didn’t argue when Sam picked out a comfortable—if ugly—pair of shoes for him.

Clothes shopping done, they headed to the groceries and Sam started adding food to the cart.

“We can’t expect Dean and Cas to do all our cooking,” he said as he put a gallon of milk in the basket.  “We’ll be expected to take care of breakfast and lunch ourselves. Besides, this is the perfect opportunity for you to splurge a little bit, let loose on that sweet tooth of yours that I know is hidden away in there somewhere.”

Gabriel eyed a package of cookies longingly.

“You know you want them,” Sam teased.

Gabriel glowered at him.  “Fine,” he snapped, “but there better be a gym or something where I can go to burn it back off again, or Raul will hand my enlarged ass to me on a silver platter.”

“No gym,” Sam said, grinning, “but we can hike every day if you want.”

“It’ll have to do,” Gabriel said, sighing. “Put the damn cookies in the cart and let’s go, that lady over there is giving me funny looks. I’m betting she has a teenage daughter and she knows who I am.”

“Say no more,” Sam said, and headed for the checkout.  “Want to go out and wait in the car, or stay with me?”

“Do you… mind if I stay with you?” Gabriel asked, shivering a little at the thought of being alone. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“Of course,” Sam said instantly, and began adding items to the conveyor belt.  “Help me unload, would you?”

 

When they got back, Sam took most of the bags and insisted Gabriel only take a few.

“It’s a bit of a hike, and you’re still tired,” he said.

Gabriel glared.  “I’m tired, Sam, I’m not an invalid.  I can handle more than two shopping bags.”

Sam huffed a laugh and shrugged. “Okay then, load yourself up, big shot.”

Gabriel proceeded to take as many bags as he possibly could, staggering slightly under their weight.  Sam watched him, his lips twitching.

“Alright there, Superman?” he asked.

“Fine,” Gabriel said through clenched teeth. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

He followed Sam down the little path through the trees, praying his hands didn’t give out before his legs did, and just managed to dump the bags on the kitchen floor in front of the impending collapse.

Sam was still unsuccessfully hiding his smile. “Why don’t you start putting stuff away while I get the rest of the stuff?” he said.

Gabriel knew what Sam was doing, but he was too tired to argue about his pride.  He just nodded and turned to familiarize himself with the kitchen.

He worked in silence for a while, learning the layout and deciding where best to stash things, and glancing out the window at the lake occasionally.  The wind ruffled the water into little wavelets, and Gabriel smiled, watching them. He loved it here already.

A branch snapped outside and Gabriel stiffened.

_Just a deer_ , he told himself, but he couldn’t help drawing away from the window.  Where was Sam, and why wasn’t he back yet?

Gabriel took a step back, into the living room, his breath coming short and sharp in his chest.  _This is stupid_ , he thought, but he couldn’t stop the panic that was beginning to roar through him. What if the stalker had followed them? What if he’d been waiting outside Gabriel’s house, had seen where they were going, what if he was out there, _right now_?

Gabriel choked on a sob and spun, lunging for the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.  He couldn’t lock it, so he sank down against it, covering his ears with his hands and chanting softly under his breath.

_Sam, Sam, please come back, just gotta make it until Sam gets back_.

The tentative tap on the door made Gabriel jerk away in surprise and he scrambled backward, a scream trapped under his breastbone.

“Gabriel?” Sam’s voice was careful. “You okay?”

Gabriel didn’t answer.  He _couldn’t_ answer—he thought vaguely that his vocal cords might be paralyzed.

“I’m going to open the door, okay?” Sam said. He didn’t wait for a reply, easing the door open and putting his head inside.  He found Gabriel on the floor, huddled near the sink, and immediately swept his gaze from him across the rest of the tiny room, ensuring that they were alone. Drawing his gun, he stepped inside and pulled open the shower door and made certain that it was empty before holstering his weapon and crossing to drop to his knees beside Gabriel’s trembling form.

He pulled Gabriel into his arms and Gabriel collapsed against him, fighting the shivering that racked his frame.

“What happened?” Sam asked quietly.

“Heard… something…” Gabriel managed. “Branch… snapping, think…”

“You okay to be alone while I check it out or do you want me to call Dean to come stay with you?”

Gabriel thought about it.  Sam was the only one he trusted, really _trusted_ , with his life and with seeing him this way, and the thought of Dean—of anyone, really—witnessing him having a breakdown was more than Gabriel could bear.

“’M okay,” he finally whispered, but he tightened his grip when Sam tried to stand.  “Not yet?” he asked, hating the pleading tone in his voice.

Sam subsided back to the floor and pulled Gabriel back into his lap.  “You’re safe,” he murmured, rocking him a little back and forth.  “You’re safe, I’m here.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, taking deep breaths of Sam’s comforting pine and leather scents, and slowly the trembling began to ease.  Finally he was able to sit up and take a deep breath.

Sam gave him an approving smile. “I think it’s safe for you to come out to the living room,” he said.  “I’ll lock the door behind me, and I cleared the place when I realized what was happening.  We’re alone.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said, and let Sam haul him to his feet and lead him out to the living room.  There, he settled on the end of the bed, tucking his feet up under himself and watching as Sam pulled his gun out again and glanced at him.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and then he was gone.

Gabriel rested his chin on one knee. The worst of the panic had lifted from his mind, leaving him shaky but calm, and he waited patiently, knowing that Sam would come back, that he wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t long before the door handle clicked and then turned, the door opening to reveal Sam, holstering his weapon again. Gabriel’s breath whooshed out in a relieved sigh and Sam smiled at him.

“All clear,” he said.  He locked the door behind him and crossed the room to kneel in front of Gabriel.  “How are you feeling?”

Gabriel picked at a thread on his jeans. “Stupid,” he said, but there was no heat behind it.

“You’re not stupid,” Sam said. “Anyone would be on edge in this situation, and you’re doing remarkably well.  Now, I think I’d like to have dinner here tonight, what’s your opinion on that?”

Gabriel lifted his eyes to Sam’s, warm with concern. “You don’t have to coddle me,” he said.

“I’m not!” Sam protested.  “I love my brother, but he can be a little… much. Best to take him in small doses. Besides, he’s got ‘activities’ planned for us tomorrow, so it’s probably a good idea to rest before then, make sure we’re fully charged for whatever he throws at us.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched in spite of himself. “Okay,” he said. “Dinner here sounds good.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, lovelies. Have another long chapter with some smutty angst (angsty smut?) to hopefully make up for the wait.

Sam made them sandwiches for dinner. After realizing he’d forgotten to buy bread and promising Gabriel he’d be right back, he dashed out of the cabin and Gabriel watched his lanky form disappear into the trees at a quick jog. Within minutes, he was back, triumphantly brandishing a crusty loaf of fresh-baked bread.

Gabriel inhaled appreciatively and Sam grinned at him and set the loaf down to slice into it.

“Cas bakes,” he said.  “Fresh bread every day.  He always has at least one or two loaves going begging.”

“Nature notwithstanding,” Gabriel said, sitting down on the stool at the counter to watch Sam as he assembled the sandwiches, “how do you ever tear yourself away?  Why don’t you _live_ out here?”

Sam laughed, his long, clever fingers adding meat and cheese to the sandwiches in layers.  “It gets boring after awhile,” he said.  “And the city has… advantages.”

Silence fell briefly between them and Sam looked up, meeting Gabriel’s eyes.  Gabriel swallowed hard, remembering a coat closet—Sam’s hand over Gabriel’s mouth while the other worked his cock.

Then Sam was looking back down at the half-prepared sandwiches and the spell was broken.

Gabriel shifted on the stool and accepted the sandwich when Sam handed it to him.  They ate peacefully, concentrating on their food, and after, Gabriel agreed when Sam suggested they watch television.

“Do you know most of the actors?” Sam teased as they settled on the bed, propping pillows behind them. He found the remote and turned the TV on as Gabriel gave him a withering look.

“I’m a singer, Sam, not an actor. Although, okay, I _do_ know him,” as an actor appeared onscreen, “and he’s completely in the closet.”

Sam dissolved into laughter and Gabriel decided he liked the sound.  It was the first time Sam had really _laughed_ in front of him, and Gabriel made a mental note to see about remedying that.

They settled in to watch the first show that looked interesting, but Gabriel dozed off halfway into it. He was vaguely aware of a blanket being pulled up over his shoulders and something soft brushing his hair, and then sleep dragged him under again.

 

He woke up screaming, scrambling backward until he fell off the bed and landed with a hard thud.  Curling up in a ball, Gabriel wrapped his arms around his head and shook, fighting the terror that twined through his body, freezing his bones.

There was a hand on his shoulder, he realized after a second, and he jerked away, stifling another scream, before recognizing Sam’s voice, taut with worry.

“Gabe, it’s me, come back,” he was saying. “C’mon, baby, I’m right here, open your eyes, _look_ at me.”

It took Gabriel a while, but finally he was able to open his eyes and take a shaky breath.  Sam was kneeling in front of him, worry and grief all over his expressive features, and Gabriel stifled a sob and scrambled upright, hurling himself into Sam’s arms.

Sam held him, rocking him back and forth and crooning into Gabriel’s hair as he shuddered, clinging desperately.

An eon later, Gabriel’s grip eased and he was able to lift his head enough to take a deep breath.

Sam smiled up at him, tension still etched on his forehead, and Gabriel realized he was in Sam’s lap.

“Hey,” Sam was saying quietly. “Bad dream?”

Gabriel nodded silently, looking at Sam’s face, his beautiful green eyes, the worry lines carved around his mouth— _my fault_ , Gabriel thought—the almost triangular nose and the soft, expressive lips.

Suddenly, all Gabriel could think about was tasting those lips again.  He was so close, too—just a few inches away.  All he had to do was drop his head the barest degree… Sam sucked in a startled breath and turned his head away, and Gabriel’s mouth landed on his jaw instead.

“Gabriel,” Sam said in a very careful voice. “What… are you doing?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, choosing instead to investigate the area of skin his lips were currently on. Sam’s jaw was warm and hard but the skin was soft, with just a hint of stubble, and Gabriel couldn’t get enough. He moved downward, licking and nibbling his way down the long column of Sam’s throat.

Until Sam caught his shoulders in both hands and gently but firmly moved him backward.

Gabriel made an inarticulate noise of protest and Sam groaned, deep in his chest.

“You don’t want this,” he managed. “It’s a… reaction to trauma, or something.”

“I very much _do_ want this,” Gabriel said, and the sound of his voice, husky and raw with want, startled him.

It startled Sam too, judging by the look on his face.  “Gabe,” he said gently, searching Gabriel’s eyes.  “Slow down, please.”

Gabriel sat back, looking at Sam’s face more closely.  “Do you not… want me? I thought—” He drew away, coming back to himself more fully.  “Forget it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Sam lunged forward and caught Gabriel’s mouth in a fierce kiss.  Gabriel froze briefly and then kissed back with wild abandon, sinking into it as their lips and tongues met and slid together.

It was several minutes before Sam broke the kiss and eased backward a few inches.  Gabriel sighed, swaying after him, and Sam cupped his face in both hands until Gabriel was able to focus on his face.

“I want you,” Sam said quietly, and there was no doubting the sincerity in his tone.  “But not like this, Gabe.  You’re not in the right headspace for it, and I want you firing on all cylinders when this happens.  Okay?”

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly, but finally he nodded.  Sam was right, and he knew it.

Sam kissed him again, a soft brush of lips, and Gabriel opened his eyes, to Sam smiling at him.

“It’s going to happen,” Sam repeated. “But I just think it’s better if we wait until you’re not emotionally… unstable.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said.  “Will you… will you at least sleep with me?”

Sam bit his lip, uncertainty in his eyes.

“ _Please_ ,” Gabriel said, hating the catch in his voice.  “Please, Sam, I don’t think I can—”

“Okay,” Sam said hurriedly. “As long as you understand there’ll be no funny business until you're steadier.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Gabriel’s mouth. “I understand,” he said.

They crawled into the bed together and Sam pulled Gabriel close.  Gabriel wriggled backward a little more, into Sam’s solid warmth, as the tension began to drain from his frame.

“Goodnight, Gabe,” Sam whispered.

Gabriel heaved a sigh and fell asleep.

 

He woke up in the morning with a surprising sense of peace filling him.  He stretched and yawned, careful not to disturb Sam’s heavy arm where it was draped across Gabriel’s ribs.  Then, holding his breath, he wriggled out from under Sam in stages and dashed as quietly as he could for the bathroom.

Done with his morning business, Gabriel glanced out the bathroom window.  The pond that the cabin sat on wrapped around the corner of the building in an irregular shape, almost like a teardrop, and from where Gabriel was standing, he could see the water, ruffled by the wind and looking oh-so-inviting.

Gabriel grinned and slipped back out of the bathroom, down into the main room and past Sam, still asleep in the bed, and out the front door.  He was safe. He knew that now—Sam had cleared the area, and in any case, Gabriel wasn’t going out of eyesight. Sam would be able to see him the second he woke up, from the windows next to the bed.

Gabriel stepped out onto the dock and padded barefoot to the end.  He gazed down into the clear blue-green water, and then glanced around.  There was no one around.  Sam had said they were in the farthest cabin out, where no one could see them. Surely, then, there was no harm at all in indulging, just this once.

He stripped to his boxers and before he could change his mind, kicked them off too.  Then he dove into the cool water, slicing in cleanly and surfacing with a happy whoop. He shoved his wet hair out of his face and rolled over onto his back to float, gazing up at the pale blue sky.

The sliding glass door to the deck off the cabin burst open and Sam hurtled through, up onto the railing of the deck and over into the water below in one smooth motion as Gabriel started upright, treading water.

Sam dove in with barely a splash and was by Gabriel’s side in a few seconds, sopping hair in his face.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, out of breath.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Gabriel said, stunned at the sight of the fully clothed Sam in the water with him.  “Did you… did you think I was drowning?”

“It might have occurred to me,” Sam admitted as he swam a little closer.

Gabriel couldn’t help it.  He dissolved into giggles, hilarity pealing forth as Sam glowered at him.

“You’re _skinny-dipping_ ,” Sam said, his tone somewhere between outraged and amused.

“Yeah, and you’ve got _all_ your clothes on,” Gabriel sputtered.  “You look _ridiculous_.”

He laughed harder as Sam glanced down at himself and back up again, making a wry face, and then suddenly Gabriel found himself with a mouthful of water as Sam _dunked_ him, pushed him right underneath the surface of the water.

Gabriel came up spluttering and coughing, shoving his wet hair out of his face again and glaring at Sam, who was grinning outright.

“Oh,” Gabriel said, his voice heavy with glee, “it is _on_ , motherfucker.” He hurled himself forward as Sam tried to dodge, their movements slow and hampered by the water, and caught Sam’s collar in one outstretched hand.

They grappled briefly but Gabriel was slippery and naked and Sam had very little to grab onto.  It ended with Gabriel behind Sam, Sam’s arm trapped in a half nelson as he laughed and trod water with his free arm and tried desperately to keep from swallowing half the lake.

“Uncle!” Sam cried, but Gabriel could tell he wasn’t really trying to get away.  Which was good, because Gabriel was weak from laughter himself and he suspected he was about to lose his—Sam took a deep breath and just… sank, slithering out from Gabriel’s arms with alarming ease.

Gabriel swore and grabbed for him again but Sam was already out of reach, twisting like an eel to come up behind Gabriel and grab him in the same hold he’d had Sam in.

“Do you give up?” he asked in Gabriel’s ear.

Gabriel made a half-hearted attempt at the same maneuver Sam had just used, but Sam simply tightened his grip and Gabriel sighed, sagging in his arms.

“Gotta say it,” Sam said.  “Say you give up.”

Gabriel tilted his head back to glare at him, and Sam grinned back.  Their wet faces were inches away, and Gabriel sucked in a breath, realizing how close they were as Sam loosened his hold just enough that Gabriel could turn in his arms.

“Sam,” Gabriel whispered, treading water and careful not to kick anything sensitive.  “I’m feeling much better, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes were large and dark, the pupils expanding, and he licked his lips.  Gabriel was on him before Sam could speak, kissing him fiercely, mouths and tongues and teeth bumping in their hunger.

Gabriel shivered as Sam slid his hands up his bare ribs, caressing each one as he found it.

“So beautiful,” Sam managed when they broke for air, bobbing in the water.  “I could eat you up, Gabe.”

“What’s stopping you?” Gabriel husked.

Sam growled and yanked Gabriel back into another bruising kiss as his hand slid lower again, between Gabriel’s legs to where he was already hard and wanting.

Gabriel broke the kiss to gasp as Sam began to stroke him.  “ _Wait_ ,” he begged, and Sam paused, blinking in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wanna… take care of you too,” Gabriel said.

Sam grinned at him and Gabriel took that as permission, bobbing closer in the water and fumbling with Sam’s belt with both hands as he kicked with his feet to keep himself afloat.

“This is not… as easy… as it looks in the movies,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth, but finally he managed to free the buckle and unzip Sam’s jeans, shoving the sopping fabric down just far enough to pull Sam’s length out the gap in his boxers.

Sam’s head fell back and he moaned deep in his chest as Gabriel memorized him by feel, exploring with his fingers. He loved the way Sam was falling apart in his hands and he decided he could do this for hours, filing away every noise and movement Sam made as Gabriel stroked him.

“Later, when there’s no risk of drowning,” Gabriel whispered, “I’m gonna suck you off.”  Sam’s eyes widened and he tensed as Gabriel continued. “Gonna push you back on the bed and crawl on after you, and take you in my mouth—do you know how long I’ve wanted to taste you, Sam?  Wanna suck you down, take you deep, and let you fill my mouth with your come—” He broke off as Sam went rigid, his head falling back again as he came, breath strangled in his chest.

Gabriel stroked him through it, slow and gentle, keeping Sam above water as he shuddered through the aftershocks and finally blinked, awareness filling his eyes again.

“How was it?” Gabriel asked, smiling at him.

Sam pulled him into a wet, hungry kiss. “It was amazing, and now it’s your turn,” he whispered, and then his hand was back on Gabriel’s length and Gabriel’s brain shut down.

Sam set a punishing pace, and Gabriel was dimly thankful for that—he wasn’t going to last long in any case. It was barely a minute before he felt the familiar tightening in his groin and he sucked in air as Sam twisted his wrist and Gabriel came in hot throbs, clinging to Sam’s shoulders and struggling for air.

When he came back to himself, Sam was holding them both up and smiling at him.  “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but it’s getting kind of difficult to keep my head above water with my pants around my thighs.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Gabriel said, and struck out for shore as Sam laughed and followed him.  Gabriel climbed onto the dock and reached out a hand for Sam, unselfconscious in his nudity, as Sam took the offered hand and heaved himself out of the water.

They stood on the sun-warmed wood, dripping onto the planks, and smiled at each other.

Finally, Gabriel bent to gather his clothes and held out his hand to Sam again.  “C’mon,” he said.  “Let’s go get dry.”

Sam followed him into the cabin and made tracks for the bathroom, where he peeled himself out of his wet clothes with a grimace. “Teach me to fall asleep in day clothes,” he said, smiling wryly at Gabriel.

They shared a warm, lazy shower, Gabriel with his arms around Sam’s neck, face pressed to Sam’s wet chest as Sam lathered them both up.

“Love the way you smell,” he murmured against Sam’s skin.

Sam laughed quietly and manhandled Gabriel around to rinse him off.  When they were out of the shower and dressed, Sam stepped into Gabriel’s space, cupping his cheek in one big hand.  Gabriel swayed toward him a little, looking up at him, and Sam bent and took a gentle kiss, sipping at Gabriel’s mouth sweetly until Gabriel opened and let him in.

“Breakfast?” he murmured when he finally drew away.

Gabriel blinked, dazed.  “I… oh… yeah.  I guess I could eat.”

Sam made scrambled eggs and sausages for them and they took their plates of food to the bed to eat.   Gabriel talked with his mouth full, waving his arms around until Sam had to lunge to rescue his plate before it fell off his knee as he told story after story of the music industry. 

Sam listened, laughing in all the right places, asking questions and teasing him gently about his taste in boyfriends, until Gabriel glared and set his plate on the floor and pounced on him.

They wrestled for several minutes, both too weak from giggles to be very effective, and Gabriel finally ended up triumphantly astride Sam’s hips, pinning his wrists to the bed.

“I win,” he announced.

Sam grinned up at him, his hair fanning out on the pillow, and arched one eyebrow.  “Maybe I _let_ you win,” he suggested. “Maybe you’re exactly where I wanted you to be.”  He pushed his hips upward, rubbing his crotch against Gabriel’s ass, and Gabriel shuddered, pressing back into it.

“You know what I think?” he said.

Sam ground his cock against him again. “What do you think?” he whispered, voice dark with want.

“I think… we need condoms so you can fuck me properly,” Gabriel managed.

Sam sucked in a startled breath of air and Gabriel dropped his head to kiss him, tongue darting inside and tasting eggs and orange juice.  His senses were overwhelmed—he was drowning in Sam’s taste and scent and feel, lost in the way Sam was breathing heavily as they kissed, hips still hitching upward in minute movements like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

They were both panting for air when he broke away. Sam stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Gabriel shivered at the feel of Sam’s cock, hard in his jeans, pressing against his ass.

“I _also_ think,” he managed, sitting up a little, “that I want to go for a hike.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up.  “You what now?”

“Hike,” Gabriel said.  “That thing you mentioned doing yesterday. I want to do it.”

“ _Now_?” Sam said.

“Well, yeah,” Gabriel said as he swung his leg over Sam’s hips and stood up to stretch.  His back popped and he groaned happily, glancing over his shoulder at Sam, still sprawled on the bed.  “Why are you just lying there?  Let’s go!”

Sam swallowed, his mouth opening and closing, and then he laughed, the sound rueful.  “Pretty sure I can’t walk yet,” he said honestly.  “Give me a minute to talk myself out of this boner, and we can go.”

“I’ll put my shoes on,” Gabriel said, and went to do that.  When he returned, Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his own sneakers.

“Ready?” he asked, standing up.

 

They picked a path that Sam said was fairly easy and Gabriel set a pace that was fast but not brutal, gazing around him at the huge trees that covered the trail with dappled shade.

Sam stayed close, but his gait was easy and relaxed, a smile tugging at his lips as they walked.  They were alone on the path, and Gabriel sighed peacefully.

“This was definitely a good idea,” he said. “I’m glad I suggested it.”

Sam sputtered in outrage next to him. “Excuse me?  _Who_ suggested it? If I recall correctly, I’m the one who drove us out here, I’m the one who called Dean and made sure the cabin was free for us to use.  I set this whole thing up, thank you very much, and I think I deserve credit for _that_ much.”

Gabriel was grinning at him as Sam wound down. “Yep,” he said. “Definitely one of my better ideas.” He bolted as Sam reached for him, laughter pealing out of him.  He knew he didn’t have long before Sam caught up, with those ridiculously long legs, so he poured on as much speed as he could, concentrating all his will into putting distance between them.

Sure enough, it was a scant handful of minutes before he heard Sam’s thudding footsteps behind him, and Gabriel redoubled his efforts, breath burning in his throat but determined to win.  He skidded around a sharp bend in the trail, arms windmilling, and sped up again, risking a glance over his shoulder.

He yelped when he realized Sam was nearly on top of him, face set in determination even as his eyes danced with laughter, and then Sam lunged, grabbing Gabriel around the waist and sending them both hurtling off the edge of the trail into the thick grass in a flying tackle.

Gabriel landed with a thud, the air knocked from him, and squirmed over onto his back to shove weakly at Sam’s shoulder, fighting giggles.

“Cheater,” he gasped.  “Not… fucking _fair_ , tackling me!”

Sam lifted his head, his grin stretching from ear to ear.  “I think _I_ win,” he announced, and kissed him.

Gabriel wound his arms around Sam’s neck and kissed him back, arching into it as Sam braced his elbows on either side of Gabriel’s head and poured himself into apparently memorizing Gabriel’s mouth by feel, long body pressing Gabriel deeper into the sweet, thick grass.

Someone cleared their throat sharply from behind them and Sam jerked his head up, startled.  A man and a woman and two children were standing there, the woman covering the younger girl’s eyes with her hands.

“ _If_ you don’t mind,” she hissed, “this is a _public place_. There are _children_.”

Sam scrambled upright and hauled Gabriel to his feet as he stammered apologies.  Gabriel just beamed at the little family, his patented never-fail smile.

“Newlyweds,” he said apologetically. “Can’t keep our hands off each other, I’m so sorry.”

The mother’s face eased fractionally. “Well.  Congratulations.  Next time, please keep it indoors where we don’t have to see it.”

Gabriel bobbed his head.  “Of course,” he said earnestly.  “Y’all have a nice day, y’hear?”

The older daughter was staring at him, brows together, but the parents just nodded and pulled both girls away.

Sam and Gabriel managed to keep it in until they were out of earshot before they sank back into the grass to laugh breathlessly.

“ _Newlyweds_?” Sam said.

Gabriel lay flat, staring up into the trees and still hiccupping with laughter.  “First thing I could think of that was plausible,” he managed.  “I didn’t figure ‘pop star on the run having a fling with his bodyguard’ was… advisable.”

“Fair enough,” Sam said, propping himself on an elbow next to him.  “Where did that twang come from?”

“Oh, that.” Gabriel snickered. “I was born in Texas. We lived there for a few years when I was little, and I picked up the accent.  I mostly hide it, but I find it helps to be a good ol’ Southern boy sometimes.”

“You are full of surprises,” Sam murmured. “Ready to go back?”

Gabriel nodded and clambered to his feet, dusting off his pants.  They headed down the trail, shoulders brushing as they walked.

“Feel up to a campfire with Dean and Cas tonight?” Sam asked after a few minutes.

Gabriel considered.  Both Dean and Castiel had seemed very friendly without being intrusive, and he was feeling steadier, somewhat closer to his usual state of enjoying a lot of people around him.

“Yeah,” he said.  “I’d like that.”

Sam smiled at him.  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” 


	9. Chapter 9

They spent the day lounging around the cabin, Gabriel making a few calls to Anna and Gilda to check on the state of his affairs and Charlie’s condition.

Anna assured him that she had everything under control, and for Gabriel to try to relax and let her handle things.

Gilda reported that Charlie was doing well—she’d complained of a headache the first day, but was much better and mostly bored of being stuck in bed.

“Are you going to take advantage of this and ask her out?” Gabriel teased.

“What?” Gilda said, obviously flustered. “I’m not—I mean, no, uh, what? I have to go.” She hung up the phone and Gabriel snickered as he dropped it on the bedside table and curled up on the bed with Sam.

They read in peaceful silence for most of the day, stirring only to eat lunch and then climb back on the mattress to surf the internet and talk.

“Do you ever Google yourself?” Sam asked idly at one point.

Gabriel snorted around his mouthful of pear, his head resting comfortably on Sam’s abdomen, Sam’s hand in his hair.

“God no,” he said after he’d swallowed. “That way lies madness, believe me. No, it’s much safer if I _don’t_ know what my fans are saying about me.” He took another bite of pear, gazing meditatively up at the high cedar beams above their heads as Sam’s thumb stroked gently across his temple.

He couldn’t remember ever having been so relaxed, so at peace.  “Can we stay here forever?” he asked abruptly, rolling his head to see Sam’s face.

Sam laughed quietly.  “You’d go insane very quickly,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but right up until the drooling and gibbering, I’d have a fantastic time,” Gabriel argued.  “Do you think Dean and Cas would sell me this cabin?”

Sam just laughed again.  “I think you should get up here and kiss me and then put your shoes on so we can go eat with them.”

Gabriel obeyed, rolling to his stomach and scooting closer until he was propped above Sam’s chest.  Sam reached up and smoothed the hair off Gabriel’s forehead and then tugged him down until their lips could meet.  Gabriel lost himself in it, the dip and slide, give and take, and his hand tightened in Sam’s shirt as his breathing quickened.

Sam’s eyes were dark when Gabriel finally broke for air and he smiled up at him, brushing a thumb over Gabriel’s cheekbone. “Shoes,” he repeated.

Gabriel groaned and rolled off him to hunt down his footwear and drag them on.  They walked through the forest to Dean and Castiel’s house hand in hand, Gabriel uncaring if they were seen.

They gathered around a campfire in the backyard, protected from prying eyes, and Gabriel perched on his stump and ate scorched hot dogs and laughed at Dean’s terrible jokes, leaning into Sam’s warmth as the sun went down and a slight chill gathered in the air.

Castiel broke out the ingredients for s’mores and Gabriel accepted several huge marshmallows, putting them on his skewer one at a time and proceeding to gleefully burn them to a crisp.

Sam watched, a wrinkle on his brow, as Gabriel pulled the blackened husk out of the fire and peeled it off, blowing on it to save his fingers from the heat.

“How is that even edible?” Sam asked as Gabriel stuck the unburned portion of the marshmallow back in the fire.

“’S delicious,” Gabriel said around charred marshmallow.

Sam just laughed and began to assemble s’mores.

As things began to wind down, Sam sat up straight with an exclamation.  “I’ll be right back,” he said as Gabriel blinked at him in confusion, and hurried inside the house. When he came back, he was carrying a guitar in one hand and Gabriel’s fingertips itched when he saw it.

Sam grinned at him.  “Cas bought it for Dean,” he said, handing it to Gabriel, who bent over it in his lap, inspecting it in the flickering firelight, pulling out the pick that had been slipped between the strings and fret board. “But all Dean can play is Stairway to Heaven and a little bit of Smoke on the Water.”

Dean shot him the finger from the other side of the fire.  “Still better than you can do, asshole,” he muttered.  Castiel laughed and pulled Dean’s face around to kiss him.

“I love it when you play,” he told him in his gravelly voice, and Dean blinked, smiling a little dopily.

Gabriel glanced up.  “Do you… mind?” he asked.

Dean gestured magnanimously, tucked up against Castiel’s side.  “Please, feel free.”

That was all Gabriel needed. He was vaguely aware of Sam settling down beside him again, but mostly he was engrossed in running his hands over the guitar’s gleaming body, feeling the sleek wood, testing the strings, and getting a sense of the instrument.

It had been crafted with love and skill—that much was obvious.  Gabriel caressed the wood one more time and then struck a chord.  He let the notes linger in the air a minute, and then without further ado, he swung into Stairway to Heaven.

Sam laughed out loud and Gabriel grinned at him. He strummed the intro and then began to sing, closing his eyes and feeling the music resonating deep in his soul as he revisited the well-known lyrics.

_There’s a lady who’s sure that all that glitters is gold_

_And she’s buying a stairway to heaven_

Sam joined in on the chorus in a startlingly pleasant baritone, and Gabriel leaned toward him a bit, letting their voices twine together and sliding into the harmony.  He shivered, a little terrified at the delight that filled him. Nothing that felt this good ever lasted.

Sam let Gabriel take the next verse, but joined him on the chorus again, and they held the last notes of the song together, fading away as the sticks on the fire shifted and sent sparks dancing upward.

There was a breathless moment of silence and then Castiel began to applaud.  Dean sat up and clapped too and Sam grinned at Gabriel.

“We make a good duo,” he said.

“I’ll have to pull you on stage with me,” Gabriel said, a little shaken and trying to hide it.  “You’ll steal the show.”

He began the chords for Smoke on the Water as Sam laughed again.

After that came Dust on the Wind and Cecilia, and then he segued into one of his own ballads, a lesser-known song that was near to his heart because he’d written it after he’d fallen in love for the first time.

The lyrics still hurt as he sang, and he let it shine through, remembering his lover’s face as Gabriel begged him not to leave, and the way it felt like his heart had cracked down the middle when his lover had walked out the door.

When he let the last note end, there was silence around the campfire, and Gabriel opened his eyes to Sam staring at him.

“I feel like there’s a story behind that song,” he said after a minute.

Gabriel shrugged, running a finger across the fret board.  “Isn’t there usually, in songwriting?” he quipped.

Sam just smiled at him, the flames reflected in his eyes.  “He was a fool,” he said simply, but the affection in his voice made Gabriel shiver.

“Do you take requests?” Castiel asked.

Gabriel wrenched his attention away from Sam’s face and focused on Castiel, his face a little dim through the smoke.

“Absolutely,” he said.  “Unless it’s opera—I don’t do opera.”

Dean snickered and Castiel elbowed him in the ribs, making him grunt.

“I was actually thinking of Free Bird,” he said, a smile in his voice.

Gabriel laughed out loud and struck the opening chords.  He motioned with his head for everyone to join in on the chorus, and finished with a flourish to thunderous applause.

“Thank you, thank you,” Gabriel said, grinning. “I’ve been trying to think of a closing number, but I’m not sure what you guys would like, so anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

Sam and Dean choked on their laughter and even Castiel snorted his mirth as Gabriel began to sing, delight fizzing in his veins. This was as good as or better than any concert he’d ever held, he realized.  And he was having more fun, here in a small backyard with only three other people, than he had at his most recent venue that seated nearly fifteen thousand fans.

When he was finished with the song, Gabriel stood up and tried to hand the guitar back to Dean, who shook his head.

“Oh no,” he said.  “After playing it like that?  Why don’t you keep it while you’re here?  You’ll get way more out of it than I ever have anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Gabriel asked, clutching the guitar to his chest.

Dean smiled at him, shadows playing on his face in the firelight.  “Absolutely.”

“Thank you for letting me play it,” Gabriel said.

“Thank _you_ ,” Dean said, “for making me realize just how much I don’t know.”

Gabriel grinned at him.  He could learn to like Sam’s brother, he decided, with his crude humor and obviously huge heart.

Sam and he walked back to the cabin holding hands, Gabriel yawning thunderously and swaying into Sam’s solid warmth. In the cabin, he set the guitar carefully on the chair where it couldn’t be jostled or stepped on. Then he kicked his shoes off and stumbled for the bed, where he shoved off his pants and crawled under the blankets in his boxers and T-shirt as Sam gathered him close.

Sam smelled like smoke and pine and leather, and Gabriel heaved a happy sigh and fell asleep.

 

He woke up early the next morning, the sun just peeking over the trees, and slithered out from under Sam’s heavy arm again.

This time, though, he decided not to go swimming. The guitar sat on the chair and beckoned to him silently, and Gabriel tiptoed to the bathroom to take care of business before soft-footing it past Sam’s sleeping form to pick up the guitar and slip out the door.  Guitar in one hand, he picked up a chair off the deck in his other and padded down to the dock, where he settled the chair on the planks and then sat down, gazing out over the water.

It was a lovely day, cool and crisp, although the brightness of the sun promised heat later.

Gabriel pulled the pick out of the strings and tuned the guitar, making tiny adjustments until he was happy with the pitch.

Then he strummed the first chord of the song he’d been working on for the past six weeks.  He thought he had the melody down, but the lyrics were still eluding him. He did a run-through of the tune, stopping to tweak and adjust until he was happy with the flow of it.

It was a sweet melody, soft and simple, no unnecessary flourishes or riffs.  Gabriel liked it that way.  It meant he could focus on the words.

He looked out over the water, but he wasn’t seeing the small pond now.  Instead it was the ocean that stretched in front of him, vast and unknowable in its enormity. Gabriel dropped the melody a step, changing it to a minor key, and began to sing.

_I am an ocean_

He closed his eyes, letting the music fill him.

_A blue whale swims beneath my ribs_

Gabriel smiled at the whimsical imagery, toe tapping to the beat.

_Clouds of jellyfish float in my lungs_

Sometimes Gabriel dreamed of escaping, of running away and disappearing, of never being seen again.

_Schools of fish dart through my veins_

He knew he wouldn’t, most of the time. But it was fun to dream of sailing away on his yacht, maybe just him and Sam.

_I am an ocean_

No one knew him, the _real_ him, the him that had nightmares and panic attacks when he was left alone—no one except Sam.

_I contain multitudes within my skin_

Sam knew him and still cared about him, still _wanted_ him.

Gabriel slid his fingers down the neck of the guitar, changing chords again, eyes still closed.

_I am an ocean_

_Do not think you can control me_

_Do not think I am yours unless I will it so_

He let the last notes of the music fade on the morning air before he opened his eyes to Sam sitting cross-legged in front of him, hands in his lap.

Gabriel started backward so violently he nearly dropped the guitar and Sam’s eyes creased as he fought his laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not moving. “I heard you singing and I wanted to listen.  I thought you knew I was here!”

Gabriel shook his head, calming his heart rate. “How much did you hear?” he asked.

“Most of it, I think,” Sam said, smiling. “Blue whale beneath your ribs?”

Gabriel lifted a shoulder, feeling suddenly foolish. “I was just dicking around,” he mumbled, and moved to get up.

Sam leaned forward and put his big hands on Gabriel’s thighs, holding him in place.  Gabriel subsided as Sam fixed him with a look.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “I can’t wait to hear the finished version—I think it’s one of your best songs yet.”

“Really?” Gabriel said, warmth rising in his chest.

“Yeah, really,” Sam said.

A branch snapped in the forest and both men’s heads jerked up.

“Go inside,” Sam said, coming to his feet in one fluid motion and pulling his gun from its holster.  “Go inside and go to the bathroom and stay there until I come for you.”

Gabriel swallowed hard and hurried up the little hill to the house.  He set the guitar down without much care this time, ignoring the ugly jangling of the strings as he stumbled for the bathroom.

He’d been doing so well at forgetting why he was there.  Pushed it to the back of his mind, pretended he was strictly on vacation and there wasn’t actually a murderous stalker after him.

Gabriel sank to the floor against the closed door and drew his knees to his chest with a stifled sob. _Sam, Sam… what if something happens to him?_   Gabriel didn’t think he could bear it if something were to befall Sam.  He was his anchor, the only thing keeping Gabriel sane and functioning.

He heard the front door creak open and Gabriel stuffed a fist in his mouth.  Footsteps, slow and careful, climbed the two steps to the bathroom and then Sam was calling his name.

“Gabe?  All clear, Gabe—it must have been another deer or something. I didn’t find anything. Can I come in?”

Gabriel sagged with relief and pushed himself to his feet.  He pulled the door open and Sam stepped inside, cupping Gabriel’s face in his hands and peering into his eyes.

“How are you?” he asked.

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly, soaking up the warmth of Sam’s big hands, and then shrugged.  “A bit stupid,” he murmured.  “The usual.”

“Look at me,” Sam said, and waited until Gabriel lifted his eyes before continuing.  “You are an ocean, remember?  Nothing can touch you. Hold onto that.”

Gabriel nodded.  "But..." He trailed off, biting his lip.

"But what?" Sam asked.

"It's not just... me," Gabriel said, bringing his hands up to grip Sam's wrists.

Sam waited, quirking an eyebrow.

"I worry about you too," Gabriel blurted.

Sam's eyes softened and he leaned down to kiss him, sweet and soft.  "I'm trained for this," he murmured against Gabriel's lips.  "I know what I'm doing, I'm armed, I'm a damn fine shot if I do say so myself, and you have  _nothing_ to be worried about, as far as I'm concerned.  Okay?"

Gabriel swallowed and nodded again.

Sam released him and stepped back, eyes warm. “Ready for some breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said.  “I could eat.”

He followed Sam to the kitchen, cautious peace stealing back over him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hello porn.

The next several days passed quietly. Gabriel busied himself with his new song, hunching over the loaned guitar as he teased out the chords and polished the verses until they shone, simple and bright.

He’d glanced up to see Sam watching him more than once, an unreadable look on his face.  Gabriel wasn’t sure, but it looked almost… fond.  Sam smiled when he caught Gabriel’s eye, but said nothing, busying himself with his book or his computer again each time.

Despite them being alone, with no one to interrupt them, and despite that Sam was _right there_ , all six foot four of long delicious limbs and mouthwatering deliciousness, Gabriel felt no great rush to have sex.

They had time.  Sam wanted him too, but he’d made it clear he’d wait until Gabriel was ready. And truth be told, Gabriel was enjoying the unhurried, languid make-out sessions, Sam running his hands up and down Gabriel’s ribs as he balanced him on his chest and they kissed until they were both short on air.

But three days after the campfire, Gabriel woke up to Sam’s leg slung over his hips, grinding an erection against his ass, and just like that, need poured through Gabriel’s veins and he pushed back into the movement with a stifled gasp.

Sam’s breathing changed and his hand tightened on Gabriel’s waist as he froze, waking up.

Gabriel pressed back a little harder. “Don’t _stop_ ,” he managed.

Sam’s breath was warm on the back of Gabriel’s neck as he huffed a laugh that sounded rueful, but he began to roll his hips again.

Gabriel’s eyes rolled up and his head fell back against Sam’s shoulder.  Every movement sparked through his nerves, lighting him up from the inside out, and he though it possible he might dissolve in a shower of sparks if he didn’t get Sam inside him immediately.

A thought struck him and it was his turn to freeze in dismay.

“Gabriel?” Sam’s voice was gentle but cautious.

“Condoms,” Gabriel moaned. “Forgot… condoms, goddammit…”

Sam rolled abruptly away and Gabriel whimpered, but Sam wasn’t going far.  He was leaning off the edge of the bed to rummage in his jeans pocket, and he came up brandishing a small foil square, grinning in triumph.

Gabriel stared at him.  “How…”

“Remember when I got the guitar from the house?” Sam said, busy taking his boxers off.  “I might have stolen a couple of condoms and a few one-time use lube packets from Dean’s stash.”

Gabriel choked on a laugh and pulled Sam into a wet, hungry kiss before letting him go to push his pajama pants down.

“How do you want me?” he asked, and Sam’s eyes darkened.

“On your knees, bent over the bed,” he husked.

Gabriel shuddered and slid off the mattress, twisting to press his face to the sheet.  The wood floor was cool under his knees and he could feel Sam settling himself between his thighs.

Sam’s breath was hot and wanting on Gabriel’s skin as he leaned forward and kissed his shoulder blade, feathering kisses across Gabriel’s back.

Gabriel bit back a moan, feeling Sam’s lips investigating his skin as a bottle cap clicked open somewhere out of sight.

“You ready for this?” Sam whispered in Gabriel’s ear, dropping a kiss on the lobe.

“Stop _teasing_ me and get on with it,” Gabriel snapped.

Sam chuckled deep in his chest and then his finger was circling Gabriel’s hole, slick with lube, and Gabriel gasped, clutching at the sheets as Sam nudged his way inside.  He took his time, the bastard, easing his finger in and out until Gabriel’s body was relaxed and accepting, before he added a second finger.

Gabriel cried out, burying his face in the sheets and rocking back sharply onto Sam’s fingers, reveling in the burn and stretch.

“Okay?” Sam murmured, his voice strained.

Gabriel managed a nod.  “More,” he panted.

Sam didn’t stop moving, but he didn’t add a third finger, either.

“Come _on_ , Sam,” Gabriel ordered, grinding down harder.

Sam’s breath caught in his chest and he obeyed, adding more lube before thrusting back in with three fingers and making stars burst behind Gabriel’s eyes.

Gabriel twisted, sobbing for air, as Sam slid his free arm around Gabriel’s waist to hold him still, driving his fingers in and sliding them out with devastating precision and grazing Gabriel’s prostate about every third pass, his own erection pressed against Gabriel’s thigh in a hard, insistent throbbing.

Sam nipped at Gabriel’s earlobe. “I could make you come just like this, I think,” he growled.

 _No_ , Gabriel thought desperately, but he couldn’t form words as Sam pushed deep yet again.

“Do you want me to?” Sam asked.

Gabriel still couldn’t figure out how to talk, the need to come making his skin feel hot and tight, his cock hanging heavy and full between his legs, but he shook his head wordlessly and Sam laughed quietly and kissed his throat.

He pulled away and Gabriel waited, his face still pressed to the bed, as he heard the crinkle of the foil packet and then the slick sounds of Sam rolling the condom into place.

Then Sam was back, shuffling into position, and there was a blunt pressure at Gabriel’s entrance, sliding slowly but inexorably inside, and Gabriel’s mouth fell open soundlessly, fists so tight in the bedcovers that a distant part of his brain was worried they might rip.

Sam’s hands were on Gabriel’s hips, gripping so tightly that Gabriel knew he was going to bruise.  _Good_. He _wanted_ the marks, wanted to show the world that he’d been claimed.

He pushed back, sinking a little further onto Sam’s cock, and was rewarded by a gasp as Sam’s fingers bit in harder.

Gabriel turned his head just enough that he could see Sam’s face.  There was sweat on Sam’s forehead, his head hanging as he inched his way inside Gabriel’s welcoming body, and Gabriel abruptly lost patience with the slow pace.

He shoved backward as hard as he could, taking Sam to the hilt and making Sam fold over him with a shocked noise.

“Fuck,” Sam hissed, grabbing Gabriel’s hips again. “You little _brat_.”

“Taking… too long,” Gabriel managed. “Fuck me… like you mean it, Winchester.”

Sam growled and obeyed.  He began to slam home over and over in devastating thrusts as his hands roamed up and down Gabriel’s sides, caressing every inch of him.

Gabriel was consumed by bliss, drowning in it, but he’d never felt safer.  He could feel the warmth coiling through his frame as Sam caught a fistful of his hair and pulled Gabriel’s head back, exposing the line of his neck.

Gabriel gasped, the tiny flashes of pain in his scalp only driving him higher, until formless noises were falling from his lips in helpless, broken pants while Sam nosed his way up and down Gabriel’s throat, hips still pounding relentlessly away.

Sam fastened his teeth in the soft skin under Gabriel’s ear and sucked, hard, and Gabriel was lost to the ecstasy that welled beneath his skin and burst out in dazzling pulses.  He bucked hard, sobbing aloud as he rode out the orgasm and Sam fucked him through it, and he was only dimly aware that somewhere in the middle of it, Sam drove deep again and froze, his cock throbbing inside Gabriel’s body as he groaned into Gabriel’s throat.

They stayed like that for several long minutes, Sam draped across Gabriel’s body like a living blanket, before he finally stirred and pulled out.

Gabriel was nearly insensible, still on his knees and facedown on the bed, and he moaned a protest when Sam got up and padded out of sight.

He was back quickly though, cleaning Gabriel up with a warm, wet towel and then gently chivvying him to his feet so that he could tuck him, still naked, back in the bed and crawl in with him.

Gabriel squirmed backward against Sam’s bare chest and yawned as Sam kissed his ear.  He was vaguely aware that Sam had said something, but sleep pulled him under before he could decipher the words.

 

When he woke up again, the angle of the sun told him it was midmorning.  Sam was still asleep, and Gabriel lay quietly, enjoying the regular sound of his breathing. All too soon, he was going to have to go back to his real life, back to the frantic rush and bustle of a busy pop star.

Gabriel grimaced to himself. He wasn’t ready to, but part of him missed it, even as he reveled in the peace of the cabin and the quiet, undemanding routine with Sam.

He slid out of the bed and padded to the bathroom, enjoying the pleasant ache of his muscles, and considered breakfast options.  He wasn’t much of a cook, but his mother had made something that was a perfect comfort food, and maybe Gabriel could recreate it.

Sam was still asleep in the bed when Gabriel came back through, and Gabriel kept quiet as he rooted through the cupboards for a frying pan.

 _Flour, milk, butter, chicken bouillon_. He ticked off items on his mental list as he found them, and scowled when he realized that he didn’t have peas. He brightened as a thought struck him. _Cas will have peas._

Gabriel chewed on his lip, debating whether he should wake Sam up or not.  _I’ll be gone five minutes, tops,_ he thought, and slipped out the door, stepping into his shoes and then setting off at a brisk jog for Dean and Castiel’s house.

Castiel opened the back door and a smile warmed his blue eyes when he saw Gabriel standing there.

“Hello, Gabriel,” he said, standing back so Gabriel could step into the kitchen.  “What can I do for you?”

Gabriel smiled back at him, a little breathless from his run.  “I was wondering if you had any peas.  I’m making breakfast for Sam.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed.  “Of course I have peas, and you are more than welcome to some, but… for breakfast?”

“Old family recipe,” Gabriel said, accepting the Ziploc bag full of peas that Castiel pulled out of the fridge. “Oh wow, are these from your garden?”

“Picked yesterday,” Castiel said. “Do you need anything else? More bread?”

“Oh yeah, another loaf would be helpful, if you can spare it,” Gabriel said.

Castiel plucked one off the cooling rack and held it out with a smile.  It was still warm from the oven, and Gabriel took a happy whiff of the aroma.

“Thanks, man,” he said.  “Sorry to dash, but Sam will kill me if he wakes up and finds me gone.”

Castiel nodded.  “Of course.  Will we see you tonight for dinner?”

“Absolutely,” Gabriel said, beaming at him, and ducked back out the door.  He ran the whole way back to the cabin and eased the door open as quietly as he could, sighing internally with relief when he saw Sam exactly where he’d left him.

Gabriel smiled to himself and started heating the frying pan.  As he’d expected, Sam’s head came up when the butter hit the pan and began to sizzle, but Gabriel pointed a finger at him.

“Stay right where you are, bucko,” he said sternly. “I’m making you breakfast in bed and you can’t stop me.”

Sam sagged back onto his elbows and smiled sleepily at him.  His hair was tousled, falling in his face, and Gabriel had to fight the urge to climb back into bed with him and tuck it behind his ears and kiss him breathless.

Instead he added flour to the pan and started whisking as Sam watched him.

“What are you making?” Sam asked.

Gabriel thought about it for a minute. “You know, I don’t think it has a name?” he finally said.  “It’s something my mom used to make for us when we were kids.  I hope I don’t screw it up.  I haven’t cooked in years.”

He added milk to the pan and stirred briskly until the sauce became creamy and thick, and then poured in the dissolved chicken bouillon.

Sam sat up, the covers falling to his waist. “Wait a minute,” he said, sounding more awake.  “Did we have all the ingredients here?”

Gabriel shook his head, focusing on the frying pan. “I ran to Cas’s.”

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Sam said.

“I was back in five minutes flat!” Gabriel said defensively.  “I didn’t see anyone but Cas, I was there and back in no time, I swear!”

Sam stood up, unaware or uncaring that he was naked, and stalked across the living room to loom over Gabriel, who swallowed hard and shrank into himself a bit.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Gabriel managed to say.  “See?”

Sam took him by the arms, opening and closing his mouth as if unable to find the right words, and finally pulled him against him.  “What am I going to do with you?” he murmured.

Gabriel took a deep breath of Sam’s skin and sighed, relaxing into his embrace. “Love me and hug me and call me George?” he suggested.

Sam’s chest shook when he laughed and he loosened his grip so Gabriel could turn his attention back to the pan of sauce.  “George doesn’t really suit you,” he said.

“Go back to bed,” Gabriel told him.  “I’ll bring this to you when it’s done.”

He felt Sam’s lips brush the top of his head, and then Sam released him and obeyed, padding back across the room and pulling on clothes before crawling back into the bed.

Gabriel busied himself making toast and then adding the peas to the sauce before pouring it over the buttered toast and carrying both plates to the bed.

Sam gave him a dubious look but accepted his plate.  His eyes widened with the first bite.  “Okay,” he said after he swallowed.  “You can cook for us from now on.”

Gabriel laughed, cutting his toast.  “This is literally the only thing I can make, pal.  You’d be begging for variety by the end of the second day.”

They ate in peaceful silence and Gabriel took the plates back to the kitchen before going back and tugging Sam up to drag him into the shower.

The hot water pounded down onto Gabriel’s shoulders as Sam dropped to his knees in front of him, rolled a condom onto Gabriel’s length and then took him into his mouth.

Gabriel slapped a hand against the shower wall to steady himself.  Sam’s mouth was hot and perfect and he took his time driving Gabriel right to the edge and then backing off, until Gabriel was moaning.

“Please,” he managed.

Sam looked up at him, mischief in his eyes, one hand busy on Gabriel’s cock and the other working his own. “Please what?” he said.

“Please let me come,” Gabriel begged. “Need it… need _you_ —”

Sam swallowed him down again, throat working convulsively, and Gabriel was lost to his pleasure, crying out as he came in heavy throbs into the condom.  Sam groaned and hunched over, his body tensing and jerking as he came as well.

Silence fell then, as Gabriel slowly came back to himself and Sam eased the condom off and turned him around so he could soap him up.

“Twice in one morning,” Sam murmured, long arms snaking around Gabriel’s waist from behind.  “I feel like a teenager again—horny as hell.  What are you doing to me?”

Gabriel leaned his head back against Sam’s chest and smiled, still floating on endorphins.

 

They walked to Dean and Castiel’s house hand in hand that night, and Dean greeted them at the door with hugs for both men.

“Glad you could make it!” he said, ushering them inside.

Sam snorted.  “It’s not like our social schedule is exactly packed these days, bro,” he said. They followed Dean into the living room and Castiel put his head in from the kitchen to smile at both of them.

“Hello Sam, hello Gabriel,” he said.

“Need some help?” Gabriel asked. “I’m ace at chopping carrots, as long as you don’t need them too fancy.”

“That would be nice,” Castiel said.

“Good,” Dean said, slinging an arm around Sam’s shoulders and pretending to ruffle his hair.  “That’ll give me a chance to catch up with baby brother here.”

Gabriel followed Castiel back into the kitchen and Castiel gestured at the salad ingredients laid out on the counter.

“I was about to put together a salad,” Castiel said. “Perhaps you’d like to do that for me?”

He turned back to the stove and Gabriel got to work shredding the lettuce and adding carrots, cucumbers, and boiled egg shavings.

He and Castiel made small talk as they worked, maneuvering around each other easily in the spacious kitchen.

About twenty minutes in, Gabriel straightened. “Bathroom?” he asked.

Castiel pointed.  “Down the hall, first door on your left.”

As Gabriel was washing his hands, his cell phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket, a little startled. Detective Henriksen’s name flashed on the screen and Gabriel’s stomach tightened.

He answered warily, but Henriksen’s voice was cheerful, and Gabriel relaxed a fraction.

“Mr. Novak, your sister said you’d gone out of town until this whole thing blew over.  How have you been holding up?” Henriksen asked.

“Fine,” Gabriel said shortly. “Are you just calling to check on me?”

“No, no,” Henriksen said.  “In fact, we’ve had a breakthrough in your case, made an arrest. We believe we have your stalker in custody, Mr. Novak.”

Gabriel rested his forehead against the bathroom door and took a shaky breath as the weight in his chest began to ease and relief flooded him so quickly that his head spun a little.

“Would you be willing to come in, take a look at a line-up?” Henriksen was asking.  “We were hoping you’d be able to give us an ID.”

“I… yeah, I mean, I don’t know if I can help,” Gabriel managed.  “But sure, I’ll come in. I’m about six hours’ drive away, though, and it’ll take some time to get us packed and ready to leave.”

“Why don’t you come in tomorrow evening?” Henriksen suggested.  “That’ll give you time to get home and rest a bit before you head down here.”

“Okay,” Gabriel said.  He thought he was floating—he couldn’t feel his feet. He laughed at himself as he pushed the phone back in his pocket.  He had to tell Sam.

Voices raised sharply from the living room stopped him halfway down the hall and Gabriel hesitated.  He was turning to go back into the kitchen with Castiel when he caught his name and stiffened.

Against his better judgment, he crept a little closer, holding his breath.

Dean was speaking, and he sounded angry. “—just saying, Sammy, you seem a little _too_ attached.”

“That’s none of your business,” Sam said, his voice low and hard.

“You’re my little brother!” Dean snapped, and Gabriel swallowed at the frustration in his voice.  “It’s very much my business when I see you getting involved with someone who’s not good for you!”

Gabriel flinched as Dean continued.

“Do you even read the tabloids, dude? He’s all over them. In and out of relationships more than most people change their underwear, man.  He loves ‘em and leaves ‘em.  I like him, I do—he seems like a nice guy.  I just… I don’t want that to happen to you.  And your reputation, dude?  Think about what this is going to do to it.  The tabloids will fucking _drag_ you. No one will want to hire you when they find out you screwed a client!”

Gabriel had a fist stuffed into his mouth as he listened desperately for Sam’s reply.  It was a long time coming.

Finally Sam sighed, sounding defeated. “Maybe you’re right,” he said.

Gabriel didn’t wait to hear more. He bolted, down the hall and out the front door, shutting it silently behind him as grief welled within him and threatened to crack him apart at the seams.

He stumbled down the steps and nearly mowed down a slim teenage girl walking up the path.

“Sorry,” he managed.

The girl stared at him and Gabriel turned his face away.

“It _is_ you,” she said.  “I thought it was, that day out on the trails, but I wasn’t sure—oh my God, I love you so much!”

Gabriel froze, horror flooding him. The girl didn’t seem to notice, holding out a phone.

“My name is Tiffany and you’re my favorite singer,” she said happily.  “Do you think I could take a picture with you?”

“I—” Gabriel was imploding, a nuclear meltdown in full progress, and for the first time in his life, he did what he’d sworn he’d never do to a fan—he ran.

He left Tiffany gaping after him and dashed for the car, grief choking him as he slid behind the wheel and fumbled the keys down from the visor.  The engine turned over with a smooth purr, and Gabriel spared a dim thought to be grateful that it was quiet as he eased it out of the small lot and down the path to the main road. Sam wouldn’t be far behind, always mindful of doing his job, and Gabriel had to put as much distance between them as possible.

Dean _was_ right, Gabriel knew.  He couldn’t keep a relationship—had never been able to.  Eventually his partner got bored with the invasion of privacy that came with dating a pop star, the novelty wore off, or Gabriel’s own foibles stopped being charming and became irritating.  It was better this way.

He turned onto the main road and opened up the throttle, the purr of the engine turning into a roar as it accelerated smoothly and Gabriel pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his sister without taking his eyes off the road.

“Anna,” he managed when she answered. “Send the jet to Palm Springs to get me, I’m coming home.”

He hung up before she could ask any questions and concentrated on his driving, tears blurring his vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I got some angst in your smut.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, kidnapping

His phone rang about fifteen minutes into his drive, startling him, and he answered without thinking.

“Gabriel,” Sam said, hard and worried. “What are you doing and where are you going?  Why did you just take off like that?”

Gabriel swallowed hard at the sound of Sam’s voice. “The detective called,” he said, aiming for cheerful.  “They’ve arrested the stalker.  Job’s done, you can stay there and have a vacation with your brother—I don’t need you anymore.”

Sam sucked in a breath and Gabriel flinched, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How can you say that?” Sam managed. “After… after everything, after what we did together—how can you say you don’t need me?”

Tears were obscuring Gabriel’s sight again and he pulled over onto the broad shoulder and pressed his forehead to the wheel, taking a steadying breath.  “It was fun,” he said, forcing brightness into his voice.  “But I won’t put your reputation at risk, Sam.  You can’t ask me to do that.”

“Did you hear Dean talking to me?” Sam demanded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said. “I’m going back to LA, I’ll give you a glowing reference.  Goodbye, Sam.”

He hung up and turned the phone off as it began to ring again, but it was several minutes before he felt steady enough to drive again.

When he reached the airport, he left the car parked haphazardly on the tarmac, the door ajar and the keys in it. It was his car, and he didn’t particularly care if it got stolen.  The jet was waiting for him, and Gabriel stumbled toward it.

The pilot, a lanky man in his fifties with graying hair, straightened and greeted him calmly.  “Mr. Novak, always a pleasure.”

Gabriel tried to pull himself together. “Hi, Vincent.  Can we make this as fast as possible?  I really just want to go home.”

Vincent inclined his dignified head. “Of course, sir. Your seat is ready for you and there is a selection of reading material laid out.  We’ll have you in the air momentarily.”

Gabriel just nodded and pulled himself up the stairs and into the spacious cabin.  He made his way down the aisle to his favorite seat and collapsed into it, buckling absently before leaning his head against the cushions.  The ‘reading material’ was various newspapers and a few tabloids that Gabriel indulged in occasionally, and he leaned forward and picked one up.

 **WHERE’S GABRIEL NOVAK?** read the slightly hysterical headline.  It was paired with a grainy, out-of-focus picture of him stepping out of his car, and Gabriel grimaced. Not the most flattering shot.

 _Fans are in a tizzy_ , the article began. _Gabriel Novak, musical superstar and darling of the music scene, has disappeared. His sister and manager, Anna Novak, assures us that he is safe and simply needed a quick break from the hustle and stress of his daily life.  This writer believes he speaks for all of us when he says, “Get well soon and come back to us, Gabriel!”_

Gabriel dropped the newspaper and sighed, resting his head against the window and staring unseeingly out the window as the plane’s engines spun up and the craft began to roll out onto the tarmac.

A car screeched up, smoke billowing from the tires, and Gabriel sat up straight as Sam hurled himself from the driver’s seat and ran for the plane.

Gabriel covered his mouth with a shaking hand. Sam didn’t have a hope in hell of actually stopping the aircraft, but he clearly looked hellbent on trying, legs pumping and head down as he poured on the speed across the grass at a right angle to the plane.

It was a foregone conclusion, but Gabriel couldn’t help flattening his hand against the glass as Sam stumbled to a stop and the plane accelerated down the tarmac.  They whipped past Sam, standing with shoulders slumped and watching them go, and Gabriel sagged into his seat and finally, finally, let the tears flow freely.

It was only a half hour flight to Los Angeles, and Garth and Anna were waiting next to her car.  Anna’s eyes were warm with concern and she stepped forward to pull Gabriel into a hug immediately.

Gabriel clutched at the back of her suit and fought a fresh wave of tears.

“Where’s Sam?” Anna asked.

“He, um… the detective called and said they had the stalker, so I don’t need him anymore,” Gabriel said, letting her go and stepping back.

Anna’s eyes narrowed.  “What happened, Gabriel?”

“Not here,” Gabriel said desperately. “Can we go home, please? I have to go to the police station tomorrow, and I’m tired, and I just want to rest.”

“Alright,” Anna said, and pulled the door open for Gabriel to slide into the backseat.  “I spoke to the detective too,” she said as Garth found his way out of the airport and onto the streets of Los Angeles.  “This is great news.”

Gabriel nodded, his eyes closed, head resting against the seat.  He’d been telling the truth—he was exhausted, and the thought of his own bed was incredibly enticing.

“Detective Henriksen said there’s evidence that this person has been stalking you for a while,” Anna said.

Gabriel hummed quietly, not opening his eyes.

“Apparently she’s been hanging around for some time, trying to get a glimpse of you.  The tapes have footage of her in a few different places.”

“ _Her_?” Gabriel said, opening his eyes.

“Yes,” Anna said, smoothing her skirt. “Why?”

“No reason,” Gabriel said, lifting a shoulder. “I just thought… the detective said they thought the stalker was male.”

“Well, I suppose they’re allowed to be wrong once in a while,” Anna said, smiling at him, her face illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights that slid by outside.  “As long as they actually catch the person responsible in the end.”

Gabriel murmured vague agreement and closed his eyes again.

He dozed off as the car rolled along and woke with a jerk when Garth pulled up outside the gates.  A few flash bulbs went off and Gabriel flinched. Anna patted his knee as the gates began to open.

“Paps have been hanging around for weeks, hoping for a glimpse of you.  It’ll be all over the papers that you’re home.”

“Awesome,” Gabriel muttered, slumping in his seat.

The car purred up the drive, bumping over the flagstones, and stopped in front of his door. 

“Do you want me to come in?” Anna asked, unbuckling as if to step out.  “I can make you some cocoa if you like.”

Gabriel held out a hasty hand. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just going to go straight to bed. Garth, do you mind taking Anna home?”

“No problemo, Boss!” Garth said cheerfully from the front seat.

Gabriel kissed Anna on the cheek. “I’m going to go to the police station tomorrow morning,” he said.  “Meet you here around noon for lunch?”

Anna nodded.  “Sleep well, Gabriel.  I’m glad you’re home.”

Gabriel stumbled up the steps and inside the house, pausing only to reset the alarm system and then staggering down the hall to his bedroom.

There, he stopped, swaying a little in his exhaustion.  He’d last slept in this bed with Sam.  It probably still smelled like him, and all Gabriel could think about was Sam’s arm around his waist as they lay snugged together, easy and comfortable in their intimacy.

Gabriel grabbed his pillow off the bed and pushed open the door to the little room where Sam had never actually slept. It would do, and hopefully this way he’d avoid rolling over and accidentally reaching out for someone who wasn’t there.

 _Maybe you’re right_.  Sam’s voice echoed through Gabriel’s mind as he curled up on the narrow mattress and he closed his eyes, trying to block it out.

He fell into a restless, twitchy doze finally, tugging at the blanket and trying to ignore the endless slippery circling of his thoughts.

 

At first, Gabriel wasn’t sure what woke him. One moment he was dreaming fitfully of Sam smiling at him, sunshine haloing him, and the next he was staring at the ceiling, wide awake.

A quick glance at his phone told him it was about three AM.  Gabriel grimaced and put the phone back on the table.  He could get at least four more hours of sleep if he was lucky.

Fifteen minutes later, Gabriel sighed and sat up. Sleep hovered just out of reach, teasing him with its tantalizing presence, but refusing to get close.

Hot cocoa sounded like just the ticket. Maybe it would help soothe him back to dreamland and he could see Sam smiling at him again.

He padded down the hall in his sockfeet, yawning and scratching his stomach absently.  Looking back, he thought it was probably irony of monumental proportions that he was thinking vaguely that he’d need to hire a new bodyguard when he flicked on the light and saw the stranger in his kitchen.

Gabriel froze, horror flooding him, and the man, who’d been peering into Gabriel’s fridge, straightened quickly and pointed a small but very deadly looking gun at Gabriel’s chest.

“Don’t move,” he warned him.

No chance of that—Gabriel felt rooted to the floor. The man in front of him was short, chubby, in his forties, wearing a black stocking cap pushed up to reveal a face that looked vaguely familiar.

He was pointing at the stools under the bar. “Sit down,” he invited him. “Nice and slow. I’ve waited a long time to get to know you properly, Gabriel.”

Gabriel obeyed numbly, pulling a stool out and seating himself on it with very careful movements.

The man smiled at him.  “Oh, this is lovely,” he said.  “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed about this. Actually, you probably do, if you read my letters!” His lips were red and wet and they showed crooked teeth when he smiled.

“Have we met?” Gabriel whispered through the fog of terror that threatened to choke him.

“Once or twice,” the man said dismissively.   “You probably don’t remember me, but that’s okay.”

“ _Marv_ ,” Gabriel said suddenly.  “I _do_ remember you—you’re the fingerprint technician that dusted for prints after the Polaroid was left!”

Marv tilted his head, a look of adoring awe sliding over his face.  “You met me for not even five minutes, and you actually _remember_ me,” he said reverently.  “I knew you were the one, from the minute I saw you on stage seven years ago. I _knew_. I knew you were worthy!”

Gabriel couldn’t breathe.  He’d left his phone in the bedroom, and he didn’t have a landline. Garth’s cottage was at the back of the property, above the garage, and he was the only other person on the premises.  No way he’d hear Gabriel shouting for help, even if he were awake, by some slim chance.

Gabriel licked dry lips.  “I thought… they made an arrest.”

Marv laughed, leaning against the counter as if he had all the time in the world.  “I work with cops,” he pointed out.  “Easiest thing in the world to pick a super-fan of yours and then break into her hotel room while she’s out seeing the sights with her husband and plant a few letters. A quick anonymous tip to the police and Bob’s your uncle!”

Gabriel was going to throw up. He clutched the edge of the bar, his head swimming.  “You framed… a fan?”

Marv sobered fast.  “She doesn’t really love you,” he said flatly, and his eyes were suddenly cold, chips of glittering gray ice.  “Not like I do.”

“But how do you think you’re going to get away with this?” Gabriel managed.  “I have obligations, interviews, a _concert tour_ to prepare for, people that will look for me, I can’t just disappear—”

Marv held up a hand and Gabriel cut himself off, a frisson skittering down his spine.

“I have it all planned out,” Marv said calmly. “You will leave a note. They won’t believe it, of course, but it will buy us time to get underground.  Literally.”  He smiled, yellow teeth flashing, and Gabriel fought the surge of nausea that roiled in his belly.

He was trapped.  He had no way to call for help.  Maybe Marv would let him pack some clothes and Gabriel could grab his phone while he wasn’t looking.

“I’ll…” His voice was shaking, Gabriel realized with disgust, but he couldn’t stop it.  “I’ll write your note.  But first, can I pack some things?”

“Oh, no need,” Marv said happily. “I have an entire wardrobe of clothes that I know you’ll like, everything in your size and perfect for you. Now, where do you keep your writing paper?”

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly. He was moving past terror into a state of numbness, a feeling like he was floating.  This couldn’t be happening.  It was simply the worst dream he’d ever had and he’d wake up soon.

“Living room,” he whispered.

Marv gestured with the gun. “After you,” he said, and Gabriel slid off the barstool and led the way into the living room, still trying to figure out what to do.

He went straight to the drawer in the old rolltop desk that Anna had bought for him on one of her antiquing sprees.

“Slowly,” Marv cautioned.  “Hands where I can see them at all times.”

A little of Gabriel’s spirit returned. “Tempting as the thought is, I’m not going to stab you with a letter opener,” he snapped, and then flinched, waiting for the repercussions.

Marv just laughed.  “There’s my spitfire,” he said fondly.  “Go ahead, write your note.  Address it to your sister, tell her you’re going out of town for a few days, that you’ll be back soon and not to worry.”

Gabriel obeyed, lightheaded. His hand was cramping before he was done, but he finally finished and signed with his usual loops and flourishes. As soon as he pushed the paper away, Marv made a satisfied noise and pulled both Gabriel’s hands behind his back. Gabriel struggled, but cold metal snapped into place around his wrists with a sharp finality and then Marv was pulling off a piece of duct tape from a roll he pulled from his pocket and slapping it over Gabriel’s mouth.  When it was on to his satisfaction, Marv knelt and produced a zip-tie and wrapped it around Gabriel’s ankles, pulling it snug but not too tight.

“Don’t fight me,” Marv said as Gabriel’s breathing became wild and panicky.  “I’ll take it all off as soon as we get home, I promise.  This is just so I don’t have to knock you out.  You don’t want that, do you?”

Gabriel sagged, a sob clawing at the back of his throat, and shook his head.

"We're going out the garden gate," Marv told him.  "The paps don't know it's a working exit, and my car's parked right outside.  Lucky you're so slender--I can carry you pretty easily!"  

He was in the process of helping Gabriel to his feet when the unmistakable sound of the front door opening reached them both.

Marv froze, shoving Gabriel back onto the chair and pointing the gun at him, who couldn’t have moved in any case.

“ _Who is it_?” Marv hissed.

Gabriel just stared at him. Very few people had the gate code, a house key, _and_ the codes to Gabriel’s house alarm.  Anna and— Gabriel’s blood drained from his face, leaving him trembling.  _Sam_.

It had to be Sam coming in the house, re-arming the alarm right now.  Anna was safely at home in bed, and if Sam had driven all night from Palm Springs to Los Angeles—Gabriel closed his eyes and prayed for guidance.

Marv jabbed him with the butt of the gun. “Make a noise and I’ll kill you,” he whispered almost soundlessly.

Sam’s footsteps were getting louder as he came down the long hall, and Marv flattened himself against the wall next to the living room entrance, gun held high, waiting.

Up until that point, Gabriel wouldn’t have believed it possible to expire of frustration, but he suddenly thought it might be an option.  He strained at the handcuffs, already brutally tight around his wrists, and Marv glared at him from across the room.

Gabriel ignored him.  If he couldn’t call out and he couldn’t run, what other options did he have?  Just one that he could see. He flung himself sideways out of his chair, sending it flying backwards with a clatter into the old desk and landing with a bone-rattling thud on the carpet.

A flurry of movement erupted above his head. Sam shouted Gabriel’s name, there was a sharp report, and Sam went silent with a bitten off grunt, sprawling facedown on the carpet.

Gabriel screamed, his voice muffled by the tape. He screamed and couldn’t stop, sobbing and jackknifing his way across the room toward Sam’s still body. _Sam, Sam, you can’t die, you can’t, you just can’t—_ Marv grabbed Gabriel’s shoulders and yanked him upright and Gabriel jerked away to sink to his knees beside Sam’s form, almost blinded with tears.

There was blood spreading in a thick pool under his head, Gabriel saw, and he sobbed again, wrenching wildly at the cuffs.

“Stop it!” Marv shouted, grabbing him and shaking him until Gabriel’s head snapped back and forth.  “Stop it right now, Gabriel, or I’ll put you under!”

Gabriel didn’t process the words, too busy struggling to get back to Sam, whose head was turned away, his hands loose—the hands that had so expertly reduced Gabriel to a begging mess the day before—and Gabriel closed his eyes and folded over until his forehead was resting on Sam’s shoulder blade.

 _You were the love of my life, and you’re dead because of me_.

Marv gave an exasperated sigh overhead and Gabriel felt the cold prick of a needle sliding into the vein above his elbow. Within seconds, lethargy was creeping through Gabriel’s body, forcing his eyes shut, making him feel like he weighed a thousand pounds.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Sam’s hair, fanned out on the carpet and matted with dark red blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just... show myself out, shall I?
> 
> ~makes a break for it~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: attempted rape (non-graphic), degrading talk and blood/gore. Please proceed with caution and if you are triggered by violence or force, you might just want to skip this chapter. Message me on Tumblr if you need to skip it and I'll give you the synopsis of what happens.
> 
> The next chapter will go up tomorrow and should answer any additional questions y'all have. Thank you for your patience and I love you all!

Gabriel floated back to awareness slowly, head hurting and his stomach heaving violently.  He opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light, and tried to take in his surroundings through the crashing headache.

He was in a small bedroom and his own face smiled back at him everywhere he looked.  Promotional photographs, screenshots from interviews, on stage singing his heart out—his likeness was plastered all over the walls from a hundred different vantage points.

Gabriel fought nausea and clung to the edge of the small mattress as the events of the last twelve hours rushed over him.

 _Sam_.  Gabriel covered his mouth with a shaking hand, remembering Sam’s body sprawled on the floor, blood soaking into the white carpet.  Gabriel had gotten him killed.  He’d lost the best thing he’d ever had, through his own blind stupidity.

Tears tracked down Gabriel’s face as the door swung open and Marv stepped inside.  Gabriel sat up and scrambled backward, his shoulder blades hitting the wall. Marv just tilted his head and smiled at him.

“Sleeping Beauty awakes,” he said.

“Please let me go,” Gabriel whispered. “Please, I won’t tell anyone, I won’t say anything, I swear—”

Marv smiled.  “We’ve gone way past that point, I think,” he said.

Gabriel fought nausea.  “What do you want from me?” he managed, his voice shaking. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“We’re meant to be together,” Marv said, as if stating the obvious.  “You’ll see, eventually.  It’ll take some time, but you’ll come around.”  The calm certainty in his voice made nausea rise in Gabriel’s throat again.

“Where am I?” Gabriel asked.

“Our house,” Marv said.  “Do you like your room?  I wasn’t sure if the photographs were too much, but I wanted to show you my collection.  Look!” He pointed a stubby finger at a grainy shot of Gabriel in profile, leaving his private studio. “I took that one myself,” he said, pride thrumming in his voice.

“How… my garden has _walls_ ,” Gabriel said.  “How did you take that?”

“Climbed a tree,” Marv said, shrugging. “Your neighbors went on vacation a few months ago.  You wouldn’t think it to look at me, but I’m actually very nimble.  That’s how I knew about the door, too, and about you sneaking out.”

“You were at the club,” Gabriel said. “You took those pictures.” Horror twined through him, freezing him from the inside out.  “You watched us while we were sleeping.”

Marv shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled at him.  “I was going to kill Sam regardless, you know,” he remarked, rocking back on his heels. “Sleeping with you? Holding you, _touching_ you like he had the _right_? No, he had to die.”

Gabriel covered his mouth with both hands, shaking like an aspen in a high wind.  “I loved him,” he whispered through his fingers.  “I loved him and you killed him.  You _killed him_!”

Marv’s smile faded and his lip curled and he stepped closer to the bed.  “You didn’t love him.  You love me. You don’t see it yet, but you will.”

“I _hate_ you!” Gabriel shouted, dropping his hands and balling them into fists.

He didn’t have time to dodge the blow that snapped his head backward.  Gabriel’s ears rang and he slumped against the wall, tasting blood on his tongue.

Marv flexed his fingers, grimacing. “There’s a bathroom en suite,” he said, his voice calm as if he hadn’t just struck Gabriel across the face. “Take a shower, clean yourself up. You’ve slept the day away—it’s almost dinnertime!  Make sure you shave—I don’t like stubble.  Ring the bell beside the bed when you’re ready and I’ll bring you your food.” With that, he was gone, leaving Gabriel trembling on the bed.

 

Gabriel shaved and showered on autopilot, his mind racing.  By now, Anna would have found Sam’s body—Gabriel’s thoughts stuttered and he shoved away the mental image of Sam on the floor.  Anna would have called the police immediately, and the search for Gabriel would be well underway.

He had to find out more about where he was being held.  Maybe he could signal for help somehow, put out a distress call of some sort.

 _Send up smoke signals_ , his subconscious suggested.  Gabriel scowled and rinsed off the last of the lather, looking around.  There were no windows in the bathroom, just like in the bedroom, no mirrors or anything else that could be broken and used as a weapon.

There were clothes laid out for him on the counter, and Gabriel picked the shirt up, mouth twisting.  Marv apparently _did_ know Gabriel’s tastes—the shirt was a soft maroon that set off his hair and eyes, and the jeans fit like they’d been made for him, which they probably had.

It took Gabriel several minutes before he could work up the courage to ring the small bell on the bedside table. Marv appeared almost immediately, a tray in his hands, and smiled when he took in the sight of Gabriel standing in the middle of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Much better,” Marv said.  “Obviously I can’t let you out of the bedroom right now, but if you behave yourself, maybe I can give you a tour later. Sit down on the bed.” He waited until Gabriel obeyed before shutting the door with his foot and moving forward to place the tray across Gabriel’s lap.

Gabriel looked down at the food. Wilted broccoli, overcooked chicken, and anemic looking peas were crowded together on a fancy plate.

“I’m really not hungry,” Gabriel said.

Marv’s face tightened as he stood over him. “I’m sorry I’m not a _chef_ , but you will eat what I give you and be grateful for it.”

Gabriel flinched backward. The room felt suddenly stifling, and he tugged at his shirt collar, struggling to breathe.

Marv’s eyes went wide and he lunged forward, yanking Gabriel’s shirt to the side as Gabriel froze in place, terror overwhelming him again.

It took him a minute to realize that Marv was looking at the marks that Sam had sucked into Gabriel’s skin the last time they’d had sex.  Was it really only yesterday? Marv’s mouth was a flat line and he let go of Gabriel’s collar and took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself.

“Where did… _those_ come from?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Gabriel shrank into himself and didn’t answer.

“It was Sam, wasn’t it?” Marv said. He was clenching his fists and a vein was throbbing in his temple.

Gabriel wondered dimly if he was about to die.

“You had sex with him,” Marv continued. “You let him _mark_ you, claim you, as if _he_ owned you, _as if he had the right_.” He snatched the plate from the tray and hurled it against the wall with vicious force.  The plate shattered and food went everywhere, and Gabriel scrambled backward into the corner, wrapping his arms around his head.

 _Please make it quick,_ he prayed.

Marv spun and pushed his face into Gabriel’s, their noses almost touching.  Gabriel could smell Marv’s breath, foul and fetid, and he gagged briefly.

“You. Filthy. Little. _Whore_ ,” Marv hissed.  “You prance around like you’re so righteous, so pure, but the truth is you’re busy fucking anyone who’ll give you the time of day, aren’t you?”

Gabriel was paralyzed.  He couldn’t have responded if he’d wanted to.

“Well, that ends now,” Marv continued. “From now on, you will be chaste, pure and devoted only to me.  You will never so much as _look_ at another person. You are _mine_ , Gabriel, and I will drum that into your slutty little brain as much as I deem necessary until you accept it.”

Gabriel clutched his knees, pressing his face to the denim as Marv straightened.

“Clean up this mess,” he said. “Since you’re not hungry, I’m not going to bother bringing you any replacements.  When you’re done, ring the bell—I have something else in mind for the evening’s entertainment.”

There was a lump in Gabriel’s throat and it wouldn’t go away no matter how much he swallowed.

Marv straightened his clothes and stepped over the mess on the floor to pull open the door.  The lock clicked behind him with a sickening finality.

Gabriel waited until Marv was gone and he was alone before he allowed the tears to flow.  Huddled on the bed, arms still wrapped around his knees, he prayed for rescue. 

Finally, though, he got off the bed and shuffled across the floor to pick up the shards of plate and food. He dumped the biggest pieces in the trashcan and then swore under his breath as he nicked his finger on a sharp edge.

An idea occurred to him and he scrambled back to the trashcan and dug through until he found a triangular piece with satisfyingly sharp edges.  Gabriel sat back on his heels and looked at it for a minute.  It wasn’t very big, but maybe… He heard footsteps down the hall and dove for the bed, shoving the shard under the mattress.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when Marv entered, carrying a guitar.

“Good, you cleaned it up,” Marv said, glancing at the floor.  “I was a little afraid I was going to have to discipline you again.  You’re appallingly spoiled, you know.”  He smiled and Gabriel swallowed hard and said nothing.

Marv held out the guitar.  “I bought this for you.”

Gabriel didn’t move.

Marv’s face tightened, his mouth drawing down. “You’re going to play for me, Gabriel. And you’re going to sing.”

“I _can’t_ ,” Gabriel managed around the lump in his throat.  “I’m… I’m not… I just can’t.”

Marv put the guitar in Gabriel’s lap and sat down in the desk chair.  He leaned back, arching a brow.  “Just pretend you’re alone in your studio,” he suggested.

Gabriel closed his eyes.  He wasn’t in his studio, he was being held by a madman, at his mercy, and he had a horrible idea that he knew what was in store for him.

It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done, but he struck a chord, his eyes still closed, fingers finding their places unerringly.

 _Sam smiled at him, sweet and slow._ _You are an ocean_.

Gabriel took a deep breath and began to sing.

His voice was wavering at first, unsure, but Marv made no noise from the corner and Gabriel was able to block his presence, focusing on Sam’s smile in his mind, the little snuffling noises he made when he was asleep, the way his hair fanned out across the pillow—

 _Brown hair matted with blood_. Gabriel missed a chord and stopped in the middle of the verse as tears threatened to choke him.

Marv straightened.  “Don’t _stop_ ,” he said. “It’s beautiful. Play it again.”

Gabriel stared at him pleadingly but Marv just made an impatient gesture and finally Gabriel found his place and began to play again.

When he’d played the entire song through twice and then several of his older ballads, Marv finally stood, stretching with a happy sigh.

“That was lovely,” he said. “My own personal Gabriel Novak concert!”

Gabriel kept his head down, focusing on the sleek wood of the guitar in his lap, and was unprepared for Marv to take his chin and lift his head.  Gabriel recoiled violently, dropping the guitar with an ugly jangle of strings, and Marv’s mouth went tight again.

But he didn’t touch Gabriel again—he just bent and picked up the guitar and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Gabriel curled up on the bed, tucking his hand under his head.  “I want to go home,” he whispered to the walls, to his own face smiling back at him from a hundred different images.  “I want to see Anna and Charlie again.  _Sam_ …” 

He cried himself to sleep, tears sliding hot down his flushed cheeks.

 

The days blurred as Marv and Gabriel fell into a routine.  Every morning Marv would bring breakfast and a wrapped lunch to Gabriel before leaving for work.

“Have to keep going or they’ll suspect something,” he told Gabriel with a wink.  “I’ll be back for dinner and you can sing for me again.”

After the first day, he left the guitar with Gabriel, and Gabriel, numbed by exhaustion and fear, worn thin by grief, whiled away his time by playing.  He experimented with genres, trying to imitate flamenco and blues and any other style of music he could think of, in a desperate effort to keep from going mad from boredom and claustrophobia, playing all his old favorites and every song he could think of.

Marv didn’t touch him all week, which Gabriel was desperately grateful for.  Marv wasn’t much taller than Gabriel but he was stocky where Gabriel was slim, and Gabriel didn’t know the first thing about defending himself.

 _Something to remedy if I get out of here,_ he thought as he aimlessly plucked out chords on the guitar. 

Marv insisted Gabriel play for him every night, closing his eyes and listening to the music with rapt attention, then demanding more songs when Gabriel was hoarse and exhausted.

When Gabriel tried to fight him, shouting and arguing and showing defiance, Marv would bring out the needle. He never told Gabriel where he got the drugs—he just pinned Gabriel down and slid the cold steel into his arm, and Gabriel’s world would go black.  He would wake up trembling and nauseated, and he quickly learned to keep his mouth shut and not argue to avoid being put under.

His world was his four walls, no windows, nowhere to go, and about a week in, Gabriel snapped and began tearing down the pictures. He ripped and tore the paper as he yanked the photographs off the walls, and then froze when he looked at the picture in his hands.

It must have been taken the day he and Sam went to Rodeo Drive, because there he was, sitting in the shop window, eating an ice cream cone and smiling at Sam, straight-backed and serious across from him.

Gabriel’s breath caught in his chest and his legs gave out, depositing him on the floor with a bone-jarring thump.

Marv found him there, still clutching the photograph, surrounded by shredded paper.

“What did you _do_?” he roared, and tore the picture from Gabriel’s hands. “I worked so hard on this room for you, and this is the thanks I get?  _This_ is the shit you pull? You ungrateful little bastard!” He grabbed Gabriel’s arm and dragged him to his feet.  Gabriel struggled against his iron grip and then gave up, sagging, as Marv shoved him onto the bed.

Gabriel sprawled across it face first, and Marv climbed on top of him, his weight pinning Gabriel to the mattress.

“I will _teach_ you some respect,” he hissed in Gabriel’s ear.

Horror flooded Gabriel and he bucked, trying to throw Marv off, but he was trapped, held firm, as Marv pressed him harder into the mattress.

Gabriel sobbed aloud.  “Please,” he begged.  “Please don’t do this.”

“You need to learn,” Marv panted, fumbling with his belt buckle.  “I’ve been patient, Gabriel, but no more.  You _will_ respect me, and I _will_ have you.  Don’t make me put you under again.  I will if I have to, and you don’t want that.”

 _I am an ocean._ Gabriel was suffused with terror, his mind gibbering and howling, but he managed to shove his hand under the mattress. His fingers closed around the ceramic piece as Marv lifted his weight off Gabriel’s hips briefly and Gabriel heard a zipper being pulled down.

That was all Gabriel needed. He rolled, swinging blindly, barely aware of what he was doing, concentrating everything he had on stopping the monster on top of him.

He connected with something solid and Marv roared in shock and pain.  Gabriel slashed again, gripping the shard so tightly that he was distantly aware that he’d sliced his own hand open and the weapon was slippery with his own blood.

He missed with his second blow, so he swung a third time, this time aiming higher, at Marv’s face, just as Marv lunged forward, and Gabriel’s makeshift knife ended up embedded in Marv’s throat.

Marv froze, horror on his face as he clutched at his throat and blood rushed over his hands in thick red-black gouts.

He made an awful gurgling noise and Gabriel fell backward on the bed as Marv toppled off to the side. The sound he made when he hit the floor shook Gabriel to his core.

He stayed where he was for a long, frozen moment, but Marv didn’t move, and finally Gabriel summoned the courage to sit up and swing his legs off the bed. Gabriel’s harsh breathing filled his head with thunderous noise and he struggled to calm it as he eased himself to his feet.

 Marv lay motionless, a bedraggled heap on the floor, suddenly pathetic, and Gabriel stepped over him and out the door, shutting it behind him with careful precision and then turning the key that still stood in the lock.

He stood for a minute in the dingy hall, getting his bearings, and then picked a direction at random. He didn’t have far to go—the hall ended in a linen closet.  Still dazed, Gabriel pulled out a towel and wiped as much of the blood off his face as he could.  He dropped the bloody rag on the floor and turned around, setting off in the opposite direction.

This way yielded more luck. There were several doors along the hallway, and Gabriel tried each as he came to them, but they were all locked. He kept going down the hall as his hand began to sting sharply and he gasped at the pain.  Looking at the wound, Gabriel grimaced.  He’d cut himself deeply—he could see bone through the blood that was still gushing out. 

Gabriel doubled back and grabbed another, smaller towel, and wrapped it around his hand, pulling it as tight as he could get it before retracing his steps.

He went up a small flight of stairs at the end of the hall and fetched up in a living room that opened onto a kitchen to his right. Standing right in front of him was a bank of barred windows flooding the big room with light.  Gabriel blinked and shielded his eyes as he glanced around and his gaze landed on a door at the far end.

Gabriel lunged for it.  This had to lead outside, it was right next to the windows letting in sunlight—he _had_ to be mere inches from freedom.

He grabbed the handle with his good hand, but it refused to turn.  Gabriel jiggled the handle violently, almost sobbing with his need to get out, to be free of this house of horrors, but it wouldn’t give.

Gabriel began pounding on the door with both hands, heedless of his wound, kicking and battering the wood. He was dimly aware that he was screaming something, but he had no idea what.  Finally he slid to the floor, weeping and unable to stop.

When the worst of the madness had passed, Gabriel came slowly back to himself lying on the carpet in the fetal position, his back pressed against the door.

Every joint ached as he stood up, and he wavered on his feet, struggling to keep his balance.  Maybe there was a phone.  He could call Anna.  He had no idea where he was, but surely they could trace the call.

Gabriel took a shaky step toward the kitchen and was entirely unprepared for the door to burst inward in a blast of splinters and a percussive bang that made Gabriel cover his ears, spinning in place to behold Sam stepping through the opening he’d created, gun in his hand and murder in his eyes.

“ _Sam_ ,” Gabriel said.  “No.” He shook his head, taking a step backward.  “No, you’re dead, _I saw you die_ , Marv _shot_ you, _you’re dead_.” This was a dream, a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and pain and longing. 

Sam was across the living room in one quick bound, holstering his gun to cup Gabriel’s face in both huge hands. There was a bandage on his head, his hair shaved down almost to his scalp.  His hands were warm on Gabriel’s face, his eyes full of grief and worry.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked.

Gabriel was still trying to process Sam being there and he nodded and then shook his head, swaying on his feet. “Not… my blood,” he managed. “Well, most of it… isn’t mine.”

“Where’s Marv?” Sam demanded.

“Downstairs,” Gabriel whispered, eyes closing of their own accord.  “Down, down, down… the rabbit hole….” He looked up suddenly.  “He’s dead, Sam.  I killed him. He tried to—but he didn’t… I killed him.”

“I’m going to check,” Sam said. “Can you wait here?”

Gabriel nodded and curled up in the armchair that Sam directed him to, still in a daze.  He watched as Sam pulled his gun back out and disappeared down the steps, heading for the lower half of the house.

He was back in a few short minutes, holstering his weapon.  He swung Gabriel into his arms and carried him out of the house, stepping over the door and heading for his car in long strides.  When he tried to set him in the front seat, though, Gabriel clutched at his arm.

“ _Wait_ ,” he said.  “I have something I need to tell you.”

Sam stopped, gazing down at him.

“I love you,” Gabriel whispered. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I know I’m not good for you, you can’t trust that I’ll be true to you, but it’s… important to me that you know this.  I love you, Sam, and I always will.”

A tear slid down Sam’s face. “We have so much talking to do,” he finally managed, his voice thick.  “First things first, we’re getting you to a hospital.  But Gabe….” He smiled, his lips trembling. “I love you more than life itself, okay?”

Gabriel stared up at him, reading the truth in Sam’s eyes.  “Okay,” he whispered, and allowed Sam to deposit him gently in the front seat of his car. As soon as Sam was in the driver’s seat, Gabriel loosened his belt a little and tilted sideways until his cheek was pressed to Sam’s thigh.

He heard Sam’s breath catch, and then the car was rolling and Sam began stroking Gabriel’s hair with his free hand, seemingly uncaring about the blood that covered him, and Gabriel closed his eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

Numb with exhaustion, pain and shock, it took most of the ride to the hospital for Gabriel to return to lucidity.

Finally, though, he managed to sit up as Sam focused on the road, dodging around slower cars and opening up the throttle every chance he got.

“I saw you,” Gabriel said.

Sam gave him a quick sideways glance. “What do you mean?” he asked, returning his focus to the road.

“Marv shot you,” Gabriel repeated. “I saw the blood, I saw your body. You were _dead_.”

Sam smiled, accelerating around a slow driver. “Scalp wounds bleed like a son of a bitch,” he said as he sped up again.  “The bullet went high.  Marv’s a terrible shot, apparently.  It grazed me. Felt like I got kicked in the head by an elephant, took me down for the count, sure, but I was just unconscious. I wasn’t dead. Anna found me in the morning, called an ambulance.  Been looking for you ever since.  Now just hold on and save your strength.  I’ll fill you in on everything, I swear.”

 

He insisted on carrying Gabriel into the hospital, with a whispered warning to Gabriel about hiding his face in order to avoid recognition.

Gabriel obeyed, turning his head into Sam’s chest and closing his eyes as chaos swirled around him.  He fought briefly when hands reached for him and tried to take him from Sam’s arms, and it took Sam several minutes to calm him down again. Gabriel clung to him, sobbing breaths catching in his throat as his heart hammered wildly.

“Don’t… leave,” he begged.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam said, and Gabriel could hear the tears in Sam’s voice.  “I’m going to be with you the entire time, okay?  But you have to let them examine you, baby. Can you do that for me?”

It took Gabriel several more minutes before he finally nodded, but the smile he got from Sam was worth it.

Gentle hands pulled him out of Sam’s arms then and settled him on a gurney, and a kind-eyed nurse leaned into Gabriel’s view.

“Mr. Novak, my name is Ellen,” she said. “I’m going to give you something for the pain and then we’re going to look at that hand, okay?”

She swabbed the inside of Gabriel’s arm and he jerked away, reaching for Sam.

“Don’t—no needles, Sam, don’t let her, please—” But it was too late—the needle was already sliding into his vein and numbness almost instantly began suffusing his body.

Sam clutched Gabriel’s good hand, staying at the head of the bed to keep out of the way of the nurses and doctors as they hurried around.

“Anna,” Gabriel whispered.

“I’m going to call her,” Sam promised. “And Gilda and Charlie. They’ll be here when you get out of surgery, okay?  You’ll have your family again.”

“Already… have my family,” Gabriel slurred, squeezing Sam’s hand a little tighter.  The blackness was tugging at him, pulling him under with sticky fingers, and the last thing Gabriel saw was Sam, smiling through his tears. Then the dark waters closed over Gabriel’s head and he fell asleep.

 

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and heart monitor.  The pain was gone and a row of neat stitches was in the palm of his right hand. Gabriel flexed his hand, grimacing as the stitches pulled.

“Oh, thank God,” someone said, and Gabriel turned his head to see Anna beside the bed, huge blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m so glad you’re alive, Gabriel, I’m so sorry I was ever mean to you or snapped at you or did anything to make you regret—I’ve been so _worried_.”

“Sorry, sis,” Gabriel whispered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Anna said. “Just don’t ever do that again.”

“No more kidnapping by psychotic rapists, got it,” Gabriel said.

Anna covered her mouth with a trembling hand as the tears began to flow down her face.

“Oh, hey, no,” Gabriel said, alarmed. “Don’t _cry_ , I was just… wait, where’s Sam?”

“He went to get coffee for us,” Anna said, sniffling.  “Charlie’s in the hall.”

“Can you tell me… what happened?” Gabriel asked.

Anna sat down beside the bed. “You said you were going to the police station in the morning, so I came over early because I thought you might want company.”

Gabriel took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re a good sister and I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

Anna scoffed a little at that but continued. “I found Sam on the floor, covered in blood.  I… I thought he was dead at first.”

“So did I,” Gabriel whispered, reliving that horrific scene all over again.

“I called an ambulance and the police, and Sam started coming around just before they arrived.  He wasn’t able to talk much, but he said your name a few times. The ambulance took him to the hospital and Detective Henriksen started the search for you.”

Gabriel listened quietly as Anna told her story. When she slowed for air, Gabriel squeezed her hand again.  “You must have been so scared,” he said.

“Of course I was,” Anna said with a touch of her usual asperity.  “My only halfway decent brother and he goes and gets himself kidnapped?  I was going out of my mind with worry.  Anyway, the detective forbade Sam to search for you. Said that he was too close to you, his judgment was impaired or something.  Sam basically said fuck you, checked himself out of the hospital after the first day, and started hunting for you.”

Gabriel smiled.  “Sounds like Sam,” he murmured.

The door swung inward and Sam stepped inside, carrying several cups of coffee.  “Did I hear my name?” he asked as Anna hurried around the bed to take one of the cups from him.  He smiled at Gabriel. “Hey, you,” he said gently.

Gabriel held out a hand.  “Come here,” he whispered.

Sam set the coffee down and obeyed, taking Gabriel’s hand and settling beside the bed.  Gabriel touched Sam’s face with his free hand, tracing the contours of his cheekbones, marveling at the feel of warm skin and hard bone under his fingers. Sam turned his face into Gabriel’s hand and dropped a kiss on his palm.

Anna cleared her throat.  “I’m going to tell Charlie that you woke up and you’ll see her in a little while.”

Gabriel barely noticed her leaving, still reveling in the knowledge that Sam was alive and there with him.

“You look so weird without hair,” he said, and Sam laughed out loud, swiping at his face.

“The bullet plowed a furrow through the top of my scalp,” he said, kissing each of Gabriel’s fingers in turn. His lips were soft and warm, and Gabriel shivered.  “It was a buzz-cut or a reverse Mohawk, basically,” Sam continued.  “It’ll grow back.”

“How did you find me?” Gabriel asked.

Sam pressed one final kiss to Gabriel’s pinky and sat back, still holding Gabriel’s hand.  “Well, Victor told me I couldn’t join the hunt to find you, so I sort of went rogue,” he said.  “He’s not my boss, so he couldn’t exactly stop me.  I didn’t know it was Marv that had you—I didn’t get a look at him that night, so I had to do it the old-fashioned way.  I went through the list of everyone who’d been in your house over the past three months.  It’s a long list, by the way—you are one popular guy.”

Gabriel smiled faintly, listening intently.

“I ruled out your choreographer and personal trainer, as well as Gilda and Garth.  They all had solid alibis, except for Garth, who was alone when you were taken, but I reviewed the security footage and deemed he was telling the truth—he didn’t leave his apartment all night.”

“Garth couldn’t hurt a flea, anyway,” Gabriel commented.

Sam nodded, rubbing his thumb absently over Gabriel’s knuckles.  “So from there, I branched out and started looking into the people you didn’t know as well, but that still had access to the house at least once in the parameters I set. And while I was looking, it occurred to me that Victor, while he’s a great guy, has a bit of a blind spot. He wasn’t investigating anyone on his own team.”

He shrugged a little, tracing the faint freckles on Gabriel’s skin.  “So I did some digging.  Joanie, you remember her?”

Gabriel nodded.  “She asked me for an autograph and Marv apologized to me. I barely even took notice of either of them.”

“You had reason,” Sam said gently. “Anyway, Joanie checked out. Teenage daughter who’s a fan of yours, divorced, works hard to make ends meet—she wasn’t my guy. But I kept going, and I discovered that about five years ago, Marv’s mother died and left him her house, up in the hills.  It was old and falling apart, but Marv put a lot of work into it.  He had an apartment closer to work, but he started spending a lot of time at the house his mom left him recently.  So I started to wonder… it wasn’t any one particular thing, but something about him bothered me.”

“You have good instincts,” Gabriel murmured, tightening his grip on Sam’s hand.

“I tried to tell Victor about him, but he shut me down hard.  Said his team was above reproach, that until I had hard evidence, that he didn’t want to hear it,” Sam said. He lifted a shoulder. “So I followed Marv today. He took a really circuitous route—I guess he was trying to throw off any tails, but it wasn’t hard to stay well back, out of sight.  I waited until he was inside and then I made entry.”

“Speaking of, _how_?” Gabriel asked.  “I didn’t _see_ a bazooka, but I could swear that’s what you used.”

Sam huffed a quiet laugh, curving his hand around Gabriel’s wrist and stroking his pulse point.  “I might have gotten a little overzealous,” he admitted. “I heard screaming, I kind of went into mission mode and used a battering ram, those big metal things you see on cop shows.  Busted it wide open, pretty as you please, and then there you were.”

Gabriel blinked back sudden tears. “I thought—” His throat closed up and he couldn’t get the words out.

“I know,” Sam said.  “I _know_ , baby. I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry it took me so long to find you, I’m sorry you had to go through all that on your own, thinking you were never going to see me again.”

Gabriel swallowed hard and pulled on Sam’s hand wordlessly until Sam stood up and leaned over the bed. “Please,” Gabriel managed around the lump in his throat.  “Please, Sam… will you kiss me?”

Sam cradled Gabriel’s face, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone.  There were tears in his eyes too, but he didn’t say anything.  He just leaned in and fitted their lips together and Gabriel closed his eyes and sank into it, relishing the contact.

Sam’s mouth was soft and warm, and when he pulled back, Gabriel was weeping openly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sam murmured, wiping away the tears.  “Baby, don’t cry, I’m here now.  You’re safe. I’m never leaving you again.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said as the tears flowed harder.  “I ran off and left you, I hurt you because I was scared and I thought you didn’t—I thought….”

“I know,” Sam said, sitting down beside him again. “It didn’t take me long to figure out you must have heard the conversation Dean and I were having. Let me guess—you heard Dean say that you go through lovers, and you were no good for me.”

Gabriel nodded, hiccupping. Sam handed him a tissue and waited as Gabriel wiped his face.

“You said… you said ‘maybe you’re right’,” Gabriel finally managed.  “And I… panicked.”

“So you didn’t hear what I said next?” Sam asked.

Gabriel shook his head.

Sam smiled at him, eyes warm. “I said a lot of things after that. But it boiled down to ‘maybe you’re right, but I don’t care.  I love him, and I’m pretty sure he loves me, and I’m going for this, consequences and reputation be damned.”

Gabriel stared at him, lost for words. Sam’s smile just widened.

“I guess you should’ve stuck around, huh?” he teased.

“It won’t happen again,” Gabriel said, smiling back at him.  He was suddenly exhausted, sleep pulling at him again, and he yawned.

“Rest,” Sam said.  “I’ll be here.”

Gabriel snuggled down into the pillows and then jerked upright as a thought occurred to him.  “There was a girl,” he said.  “At the camp—she saw us on the trail, and then later I ran into her. That’s who was making noise in the woods—she thought she recognized me and she was trying to get a closer look.”

Sam nodded.  “Makes sense.”

“Her name is Tiffany but I don’t have a last name. I was… I was rude to her.”

Sam squeezed his hand.  “Dean will have her parents’ information on file. We’ll find her.”

“Okay,” Gabriel murmured, lying back again. “Sam…”

Sam met his eyes and cocked an eyebrow.

“I love you,” Gabriel said.

Sam smiled at him.  “I love you too, Gabe.  Go to sleep now.”

Gabriel obeyed with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter, if my brain cooperates!


	14. Chapter 14

Gabriel held the last note of the song, head thrown back and feet planted firmly on the stage.  Twelve thousand people had come to see Gabriel Novak’s triumphant return to publicity, and there was no way he was going to let them down. The tickets had been sold out within an hour of going live, and it was standing room only in the enormous amphitheater.

Gabriel let the note fade and the audience erupted in screams and applause.  Gabriel grinned, wiping sweat from his face.  A quick glance to the side assured him that Sam was still exactly where he’d promised he would be—offstage behind the massive speakers, where he could see Gabriel the entire time.

Sam smiled at him, pride and love in his eyes, and Gabriel’s smile widened.

“For my next song,” he said into the microphone, “I’m going to need a little help.”  He pretended to peer out over the crowd.  “Is there a Tiffany Lang in the audience? About so tall—” He gestured with his hand. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, braces that she really hates…”

Someone shrieked and Gabriel spun to look in that direction.  There was a commotion near the front and then Tiffany stumbled into the aisle, helped, Gabriel imagined, by a discreet shove from her father.  She stood still, looking around her frantically as if trying to figure out what to do, and Gabriel held out his hand.

“Tiffany, would you join me on the stage?”

The teenager gulped but began to walk toward him, her steps slow and wavering, as if she was afraid she’d wake up at any moment.

Gabriel took her hand and helped her up the last step and onto the stage itself.  She blinked up at him, clearly awestruck, and Gabriel laughed and hugged her.

He held the microphone down by his side so no one could hear them.  “This is my way of apologizing to you for the way I acted at the camp,” he whispered in Tiffany’s ear.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she told him earnestly.  “I understand!”

“Regardless,” Gabriel said, smiling at her. He brought the microphone back up as an assistant brought a stool and a guitar out. “Most of you know that a few months ago, I was kidnapped and held against my will for a week.  I survived, obviously, but—” He held up his left hand, showing the crowd the jagged white scar that bisected it.  “Playing is not as easy for me as it used to be, and my doctor has recommended I take it easy for a while.  However, Tiffany, your dad tells me that you’ve been taking guitar lessons for almost as long as you’ve been a fan of my music.  So I was wondering… would you be willing to accompany me on this song?”

The crowd roared their approval as Tiffany’s eyes went huge and she took a step back, shaking her head frantically.

Gabriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Pretend they’re not there. It’s just you and me, riffing together.”

Tiffany shot him a horrified look. “That doesn’t make it _easier_!” she said, and Gabriel laughed outright.

“You can do this,” he said. “Key of C, okay?”

Tiffany swallowed hard and accepted the guitar, sitting down on the stool.  Her first chords were shaky, uncertain, but Gabriel just nodded encouragingly when she glanced up at him, and within a few measures, she was playing more confidently. Her fingers were deft and quick on the strings, and Gabriel was so intent on listening that he nearly missed his intro.

He caught up quickly, though, and they went through the song—one of his first ballads—with surprising ease. When they hit the chorus, Tiffany joined in with a soft soprano harmony, and Gabriel’s smile almost hurt by the time they were done.

When the crowd finally stopped clapping, Tiffany stood up, her smile blinding, and Gabriel hugged her.  “Give her five years,” he said into the microphone, “and she’s going to run me out of a job!”

He waited for the hired security to help her back down the stairs and escort her to her seat before he turned back to the crowd.

“This next song is pretty dear to my heart,” he told them.  “But before I sing it, there’s someone I want you to meet.  Sam?”

Sam’s eyes went round and he shook his head frantically.

Gabriel grinned at him, holding out his hand. “He’s shy,” he told the audience. He set the microphone down and crossed the stage to take Sam’s hands.

“What are you _doing_?” Sam hissed.

“All you have to do is stand there and look pretty,” Gabriel told him, tugging on him gently. “Please, Sam?”

Sam glared at him and Gabriel just barely kept his amusement hidden.  He knew Sam couldn’t resist his puppy eyes.

Sure enough, Sam sighed and followed him onto the stage, to the cheers of the crowd.  He lifted a hesitant hand and the crowd cheered harder as Gabriel picked up his microphone again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is my boyfriend, Sam,” he said.  “Now, my manager told me not to do this.  She said me showing off my boyfriend would make my teenage fans jealous, that you can’t handle knowing I’m in a relationship and therefore ‘off the market’, as it were.  But personally, I think you guys are better than that. I think you’ll understand that I’m a person too, and I need love just as much as anyone else, and I have found an amazing guy who I happen to love very much, and I think you’ll be happy for me.”  He smiled at Sam, who shifted his feet but smiled back.  “Am I right, guys?”

The cheer that erupted made Gabriel’s ears hurt, and Sam winced, but his smile widened.

“Anyway, Sam is the one that found me after the kidnapping,” Gabriel continued.  “He saved me.”

The audience applauded as Sam frowned and grabbed the hand that held the microphone, pulling both toward him.

“I didn’t save him,” he said, looking a little intimidated at the way his voice boomed and echoed. “He saved himself. I just… gave him a ride to the hospital.”

Everyone laughed and Gabriel smiled up at him and then nodded to the sound tech, backstage waiting for his cue. As the first chords of the song sounded, Sam’s eyes widened again and he took a quick breath. Gabriel was still holding his hand, and he squeezed it as he lifted the microphone to his lips and began to sing.

_I am an ocean_

The last few months had been incredibly difficult for everyone.  Gabriel had screaming nightmares that even Sam’s presence didn’t completely dispel.

_A blue whale swims beneath my ribs_

The psychiatrist was helping, as was the physical therapist Gabriel’s doctor sent him to.  They were confident that Gabriel would regain almost all mobility in his hand, but it still ached, late at night when Gabriel was lying in bed, trying not to remember the way Marv had felt on top of him.

_Clouds of jellyfish float in my lungs_

Sam was Gabriel’s lodestone, his true north. No matter what Gabriel said or did, Sam stayed steady and calm and loved him through it.

_Schools of fish dart through my veins_

There were tears in Sam’s eyes, Gabriel saw. He squeezed his hand again, smiling at him through his own tears.

_I contain multitudes within my skin_

He’d bought the cabin from Dean and Castiel. He was going to give Sam the key to it that night, after the concert was over.

_Do not think you can control me_

_Do not think I am yours unless I will it so_

He sang the chorus for the last time and there was a stunned silence from the audience.  Gabriel looked up at Sam.

“I love you,” he said.

Sam swept him into his arms and kissed him, desperate and hot and seeking, full of wordless emotion.  Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and held on tight as he kissed him back.  He was dimly aware that the audience had gone wild, but he didn’t care.

His world was Sam, surrounding him and protecting him and loving him fiercely, and Gabriel surrendered to him willingly, laughing against his lips as his fans thundered their approval at the top of their lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for coming on this journey with me, lovelies. You are all fabulous and I adore you. My beta was Miniatures, aka wordssometimesfail, aka Aaliya, aka THE BEST BETA EVER YOU CAN'T HAVE HER. ~clings and hisses~
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com) and say hi if you're so inclined!


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